A Change in Priority
by in-prose
Summary: Like any new parent, Olivia worries about the healthy and safety of her growing baby. However, for her, there is so much more to worry about. The season that never was. Updated: May 1st.
1. Decision

Title: A Change in Priority

Spoilers: All Episodes are fair game

Summary: Like any new parent, Olivia worries about the healthy and safety of her growing baby. However, for her, there is so much more to worry about. The season that never was.

Author's Notes: Comments = love. More parts coming soon! Special thanks to amynoemi for a fly by beta!

Disclaimer: These are not my characters, I just play with them. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

He took her home. Not their home, but her home. Almost as soon as they got into the old, beat-up station wagon, the adrenaline rush of the last few days and especially the last few hours began to wear off. So much had changed in such a short amount of time.

Olivia hunched down in the passenger seat and leaned her head against the cool window. She watched the nurse push the wheelchair back through the automatic sliding doors. Doctor's orders: Every patient gets wheeled to their waiting car. Olivia didn't try as hard as she usually would to fight the rule.

She was spent. It had taken her a few hours to wake up after… She didn't want to think about what had happened on the cargo ship. She remembered everything except how she had got from the middle of the ocean to the hospital in Boston. Walter said the physical symptoms resulted from the Cortexiphan being burned up. Her body was readjusting without the drug. Olivia didn't quite believe him. She thought it had more to do with her body readjusting after a bullet was removed from her brain.

Either way, she didn't care right now. 'Later,' her mind kept saying. She couldn't process anything. Cortexiphan. William Bell. Dead. Alive. Baby. Peter. Home. Sleep. Only the last idea seemed like something she could comprehend. She wanted her bed and Peter's arms around her.

She could barely pulled herself up as Peter pulled into parking spot outside her building. "Peter, I'm going to need some help," she said before he was even out of the car.

"What's the matter?" he asked. He had been watching her so closely, like he was afraid she would disappear.

"I'm just tried. Give me something to lean on."

He hurried out of his seat and over to her side of the car. He opened her door. She took the arm he held out. She put most of her weight onto his grip.

They moved step-by-step to the elevator, to her floor, to her apartment, and into her bedroom.

"Are you sure you are all right?" His voice full of mother hen worry.

Olivia eased onto the bed. "I'm fine. Worn out. I want to sleep. Get me some pajamas out of the drawer."

"Agent Dunham, I thought you believed sleep was for the weak."

She smiled, but couldn't muster more of a response.

He passed her an oversized t-shirt with FBI printed across the front and a pair of thinning striped bottoms. "Olivia, are you sure? Maybe we should go back to the hospital."

"No, I'm fine."

"It's not only you I'm worried about."

She breathed in. It was different now. "I'll make you a deal. You let me sleep for a few hours and if I don't feel better, I'll go back. "

"It's a deal."

She settled back against her pillows. Peter pulled the cover from underneath her legs and then over her body.

"You let me know if you need anything. Okay, Liv?"

"Okay."

He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. Olivia wasn't sure if it was conscious or not, but it was the same place where the bullet had penetrated her. She shivered. "Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere. At most, I'll be in the kitchen."

"No, I mean stay until I'm asleep." She was so unsettled, rattled. It was too much. Like she had for her entire life, she wanted to feel safe. And for probably the first time in her entire life, she wasn't afraid to ask for it.

Without saying anything else, he sat down on the edge of the bed. She viewed him through half-closed eyes. He took off his shoes one by one and slid onto the bed beside her. He wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her close.

"Just for a few minutes," she almost whispered.

"Only a few minutes," Peter repeated.

She was able to close her eyes. She took in his scent, his warmth, the weight of his arms. She was able to rest.

Olivia opened her eyes. She inhaled deeply, but didn't move. She was alone in her bedroom. The sunlight skirting the edges of her curtains had an afternoon glow. Without looking at the clock, she knew it had to be late afternoon. She couldn't say what day though. She might have been asleep for years. Her muscles seemed stiff, but rather than sore. The sleep was what she needed.

Still, she would have much rather still be untroubled by everything that had happened the last few days. The same words ran through her mind again. Cortexiphan. William Bell. Dead. Alive. Peter. Baby. She still didn't know how to process any of those words, especially the last one. She felt like she couldn't even touch the last one. Not yet. Not with everything being so uncertain.

The floorboard creaked slightly. She rolled over to find Peter hovering in the open doorway.

"Hey," she said, her voice filled with sleep.

"Hi, Mommy," he said.

Her heart skipped. Mommy. His voice had been soft and full of relief, but he glimmered. It was only momentary, but it was definitely there. Olivia closed her eyes for a heartbeat. She took a deep breath and tried to smile, tried to ignore what she had just seen. "How long have I been asleep?"

He moved closer and perched on the bed. "Almost a day. I was worried."

"I guess I needed it."

"I would say so. How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"Do you think you could eat something?"

"Yes."

"Good answer. Eggs and toast?"

"Scrambled, please."

"As the lady wishes."

He went back into the kitchen. She listened to the pans banging as he tried to find the right one. It was comforting, knowing he was there.

She eased herself into a sitting position and, when the room didn't start spinning, inched her legs over the edge of the bed. Carefully, she lowered her feet to the floor and tested her weight. She was able to stand. She pulled the blanket off the end of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. Still moving slowly, she followed Peter into the kitchen.

"I was going to bring it you to," said Peter when he noticed her standing in the kitchen. "You shouldn't be up." He hurried over to her and led her to a seat at the kitchen table.

"I'm okay." But let him help her anyways.

She tucked her knees against her chest and leaned them against the table. It was so easy and domestic as if it was always meant to be this way. Reading the newspaper. Drinking a cup of coffee.

This was something she could understand. The two of them making breakfast. It was beautiful, as Peter had told her once in another timeline. That's where things got complicated. Between the two of them, they knew where they stood. Together. From the outside, the missing timelines and missing memories were not easy to understand. No one outside the lab was going to understand. She'd done her best to explain it to Nina, but how was someone like Rachel ever going to understand?

Technically, she'd known Peter for only four months. Technically, they'd only been together for only a few weeks. It didn't matter her memories told her she'd known him for almost four years. It didn't matter she had probably been in love with him for most of that time. And now she was having a baby. God, a baby.

Peter was busy dishing the eggs onto a plate with toast. He slid the plate into the table in front of her. She sat in her chair properly, putting her back on the ground. He began to sit down opposite her but jump back up as soon as his ass hit the chair.

"Butter," he said.

"And a fork," said Olivia as she sat forward and let the blanket fall away.

He was nervous. He was going to want to talk about everything right now. She wasn't ready yet. He scurried around the kitchen again, collecting what he had forgotten.

He placed the reminding item in front of her.

"Thank you," said Olivia.

Peter leaned in for a kiss. "You're welcome. It's the least I can do after everything you've been through."

She smiled at him. He settled in the chair across from her. She picked up her fork but found she wasn't really hungry anymore. She took a few bites of the eggs because she knew he wanted her to.

"So what do we do now?" he said.

"I don't know. There are a lot of things to figure out."

"I agree. I just want to make sure we're on the same page. We're going to do this? We're going to have a baby?"

"Peter, I wish I could answer that right now."

"You were so happy at the hospital. I thought—"

"I want this so much. I want to be a mother. I want to give you a son or daughter. I just wish there was some way to guarantee that he or she is going to be okay."

"No parent can guarantee. They just do their best."

"But's it different with us. With me. You know that. Peter, I died. I had a bullet in my brain. I was dead. I healed myself. I had enough Cortexiphan in my body to destroy two universes. This was just what happened while I was already pregnant. I can't imagine what effect everything else I've been through has had. I can't be excited about this or want this until I know she has a least a chance."

Peter was quiet as if the thought he only just occurred to him. Dead. That was a word to add to his list. "We have a doctor's appointment next week. They'll—"

"They can't. How are their tests going to be able to tell us whether our baby has Cortexiphan for blood or something worse?"

"We'll talk to Walter. To Nina. They know what we're dealing with," Peter said as he leaned forward.

"I can't if there is any chance the baby won't be normal. She deserves to be normal."

"Our baby is going to be extraordinary."

"But I want them to be extraordinary because they are ours, not because of some experiment," Olivia said, nearly in tears.

He moved even closer and cupped a hand around her cheek. "I can't guarantee you, but I can do everything to try to make sure he or she is okay. Starting now. Our baby is going to be perfect. I just know it."

"How?"

He hesitated and let his breath out. "There's something I haven't told you."

Olivia closed her eye, a moment of relief. "What else could there be?"

"When I went inside the Obverser's mind to try to find out where you were, he showed me something. The other Olivia, she had a son." She looked at him sharply. "I mean past tense. He disappeared when I did. She doesn't remember."

"Your son?" She pulled away; his hand dropped to his lap.

"Yes, Liv. My son." She didn't say anything else, so Peter kept talking, "The other Olivia's son disappeared because he wasn't supposed to be. Our baby is what's supposed to be. For some reason, the universe wants our child. You would have asked me a few months ago, even a few days ago if I believe in fate, I would've said no. But I've seen it. In every version, you had to die, yet here you are. Both things happened. We can't fight our fate."

"Destiny?"

"Yes, destiny. The Observer said the circumstances were never supposed to be and it would have changed everything that is to come. I have no idea what that means. I don't want to know, expect it means our baby is going to be fine."

"I want to believe that because I want to be a mother. I want this baby so badly. I don't want our baby to have to go through anything that I did. I wish things were different."

"So do I. I wish there was something I could do to make everything better. To make everything that happened to you go away, but I can't. We have to make the best of it. We can get tests as many times as you want. I know Nina will put all the resources of Mass Dynamic into making sure everything is okay. I bet Walter will regrow parts of his brain to make sure everything is okay. I saw the look on your face when you told me. Hold onto that. We can do this."

"We can do this," Olivia repeated even though she didn't really believe it. "You need to tell me every day."

"Everything is going to be okay. We can do this," he said with a smile.

"Again."

Peter took hold of the bottom of her chair and pulled it closer to his. "Everything is going to be okay. We can do this."

The chair made a scrapping noise as it scooted nearer.

"Again," said Olivia and she was smiling too.

"Everything is going to be okay. We can do this." He kissed her. She kissed him back and wrapped her arms around his neck.

They stayed like that for a long time. It was Peter who finally pulled away. "You need to eat something," he said.

He wiped his nose with the back his hand. His eyes were shining.

Olivia had found as much calm as she was going to. She focused on the rest of her breakfast.

"Stop it," she said after a few minutes.

"I'm not doing anything."

"You are. You're staring."

"Okay, I am. But how do you expect me to stop it?"

"I don't know."

"You just said it. You're here and you're going to have baby."

"I know, but stop it."

He pretended to stare at the ceiling. "Better?"

"Much. Thank you."

"Oh c'mon."

"Fine. Do the dishes or something. Just don't sit there and gape at me."

He made a face, but got up from the table. He began filling the sink with soapy water. She finished the last few bites and added her plate to the small stack. She slid her arms around his torso and kissed him on the shoulder. They leaned against each other.

The dishes had only been there two days. She had a bad habit of rinsing her dishes and leaving them in the sink. She would wash them and reuse them rather then filling up the dishwasher.

The pile had been from the dinner they started before Jones had turned the sun into a weapon. How could that be only a few days ago? How was it possible so much had changed since then?

She was alive. That was different then the way the last few days should have turned out. She had Peter. She was going have a baby. God, a baby. The strangest part was she didn't feel any different. Yes, she was still exhausted, still fragile, but she never suspected she was pregnant. The blood test had been a part of the standard panel the nurse had sent while they examined her at the hospital.

The doctor had come back with the results.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure what to say," said Dr. Bryant. "From what I can tell, everything seems normal. Rather, relatively normal. My basic summation would be your body is recovering like you've run ten triathlons in a single day. You have to take it easy for a while. I'm not signing off on your field papers. And there is something else."

Olivia had been sitting up in her hospital bed, still wearing a hospital gown and feeling very vulnerable. She had felt oddly disconnected. She had gripped the edge of the sheet for something to hold on to. She would have preferred Peter.

"What else?" she had asked, sounding much calmer than she felt.

"We send out a standard panel for every blood test and for women it includes a pregnancy test."

"And?"

"Yours came back positive."

"I'm pregnant?"

"Yes," the doctor had said. "Now, especially with what you've been through, we're going to keep a close eye on you. Make an appointment with the OBGYN as you're leaving."

"That's it?" Olivia had managed to say despite the buzzing static in her mind.

Dr. Bryant smiled. "For now. I'm saying go home, rest, and make plans. Talk to your boyfriend and the rest of your family. But for now, we're all set. Get changed and I'll let them know you are ready."

And then he had left her alone. Olivia had no choice but to get out of the bed, begin to put her clothes back on, and wait anxiously for Peter. She wasn't worried about how he would react, but what came afterwards. She had said the words 'Peter, I'm pregnant.' His concern had turned into happiness and he had looked to her to make sure that was right, if she felt the same way. She did. It was hard not to when she saw the emotion reflected on his face.

Peter turned off the water and she was brought out of her thoughts. "What do you want me to do now? The dishes are all clean," he said.

"Let's go back to bed," she said.

He hesitated. 'Let's go to bed' usually meant something other than sleeping.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said.

"I mean actually sleep. We'll put on a movie and spend the day in bed. I don't want to think about anything that happened in the last few days or the last few months. Let's pretend it's the day before you stepped into the machine. Or better yet, let's pretend it the it's the morning before Bell took over my brain and we've just got back from the street fair." Her voice was strong, but the look on her face said she was close to falling apart. She didn't really believe the mantra they had been repeating earlier.

Peter flipped around. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She pressed her forehead against chest and allowed herself to be held.

"Everything is going to be okay. We can do this," she said after nearly twenty minutes. She stepped backwards a little.

"We can," he said. "You go get back into bed. Do you want anything?"

"No, thanks," she said as she started moving back to the bedroom.

She picked up the remote. The TV blinked on and she turned the volume down to almost silence. She flipped through the channels until she found a black and white movie.

Peter came into the room and sank onto the bed next to her. Together, they curled up against the pillows.

"What movie?" he asked.

"The guide thing said Casablanca but I don't remember this part."

"You've seen this before?"

"Yeah, who hasn't?"

He didn't answer. She didn't expect him to. She had what she wanted. She was half asleep and half distracted and in the arms of the man she loved. For now, it was all that mattered.

The end credits were rolling across the screen the next time Olivia was really aware of anything. He was getting out of bed. She figured he was just going to the bathroom until she realized he was going in the opposite direction.

"What is it?" she said.

"The door."

Then, she heard the light knocking. She sat up and opened the drawer in the nightstand. A small caliber pistol sat on top of the other junk. She didn't pick it up, but was ready.

Peter opened the door. "Hi, c'mon in," he said to whoever was in the hallway.

"Thank you," come Nina's voice. "I'm sorry to barge in. I just wanted to check in."

Olivia relaxed and pushed the drawer closed again. She looked around the room for a way to make herself mildly more presentable and then gave up almost at once.

"You're not barging, but she might be asleep," he said.

Olivia smiled a little to herself. He gave her an out. Given what she had said a few hours ago, he knew she probably wouldn't want to go over the entire situation again. Although she was wishing her life were exactly how she remembered it, Nina's presence was one thing she wouldn't change. She was the closest thing Olivia had to a mother after all and she needed someone like that desperately.

"I'm awake," she said as she entered the living room.

Nina looked at her as if she couldn't believe her eyes. She wished everyone would stop doing that. Though, she had to admit it was hard to believe. Nina had been there in the helicopter that took Olivia back to New York before she was moved to Boston. She had needed to stay to deal with the aftermath of Bell's actions. The last time Nina had seen Olivia, she had been unconscious and Nina had been told she'd been shot in the head. Not something you want to here about the closest thing you have to a daughter.

"Oh my dear," said Nina and moved closer for a hug. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you woke up. I so wanted to be."

"I know. You had more important things to do and I was in good hands," Olivia said and smiled at Peter.

"Nothing is as important to me as you are."

Olivia smiled again.

"How are you? Is everything all right?" asked Nina.

Olivia nodded. "I'm just tried and a little weak. I already feel better than I did this morning. You don't have to worry."

"I can't help but worry. Do you need anything? What can I do?"

"Nothing. Being here is enough."

Nina took Olivia face in her hands for a moment. She had done that since the day Olivia and Rachel had stepped off the train in New York. "I'll make us tea. You two relax," said Nina.

She bustled into the kitchen.

Peter moved back to Olivia. "Do we tell her?"

"A lot of people know. I want this to be for us for a while, but I want her to know."

"Okay."

He followed Nina into the kitchen. He leaned against the door jam. Olivia leaned against him.

"Nina, there's something else," said Peter.

Nina froze as she reached for the mugs and turned to face the couple. "What's the matter?"

"There's nothing wrong," said Olivia. "It's something exciting, I think."

"Olive, what is it?"

Olivia looked up at Peter. He gave her a look that said, 'go ahead.'

She chose the same method she had used for Peter. Direct. "We're having a baby."

Nina looked surprised and then—the look at Olivia was hoping for—excited. "Oh Olive!"

The tea was forgotten. More hugs and kisses and Olivia realized Nina was crying. Big, fat, happy tears rolled down her cheeks.

"I'm so happy for you," she said at last, wiping her eyes. "This is so exciting."

"I'll get the tea," said Peter. "You two relax."

Nina led the way to the sofa and they sat down together. She took Olivia's hand and held it on her lap.

"I can't believe this," Nina said. "It's so remarkable. And just try to stop me from spoiling the child rotten." She kept talking.

Olivia didn't know what to say. She wasn't able to think that far into the future. She thought again about how she didn't feel any different. She didn't feel like a mother or like she was pregnant. She just felt scared. And scared was the mildest way of putting the emotion.

"What are you thinking?" said Nina when she realized how quiet Olivia was.

Olivia shrugged. "I'm happy, but I'm worried."

"I can only imagine. We are all here for you."

"I know."

"Talk to me, Olive."

"Cortexiphan," said Olivia. She put her fingers to her lips as though she was surprised at what she had just said. "The doctor says I'm probably less than a month pregnant. Bell has been trying to activate me the entire time and then there's what happened on the cargo ship. You know all I have ever wanted was to be normal. I want that for my child."

"We have no reason to believe that your baby will be anything but normal. The entire resources of Massive Dynamics are at your disposal. We will do whatever we have to make sure your baby is healthy. I promise."

They embraced.

"Thank you," said Olivia.

"Of course, my dear. You are going to be a wonderful mother. Absolutely wonderful."

As they broke apart, Olivia caught sight of Peter leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. He was facing the opposite direction now and watching them. He shook his head with a smiled as he looked at both misty eyed women.

She smiled back. She was not sure of the future or of the little life whose heart was beating inside her, but maybe she was beginning to believe him. Everything was going to be okay. They could do this.


	2. Reassurances

Part 2: Reassurances

"Liv? Honey?"

The voice and the accompanying sliver of light invaded Olivia's darkened cave. Through the dull, heavy throbbing in her head, she managed to appreciate that Peter was a brave man. Her migraines turned her into a very unpleasant person, a very unpleasant person who could usually reach a firearm.

She groaned from beneath the pile of blankets to in indicate she had heard him.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, still cautiously.

"It's another migraine. It hurts and everything makes it worse and I can't take the meds."

"Do you want me to reschedule then?"

"Reschedule what?" Olivia snapped.

"The ultrasound. We should leave soon if you feel up to going. I can call Nina right now. She'll understand."

She was suddenly as alert she was she going to be under the circumstances. "No, I want to go. I need to hear the results. Give me time to shower."

She hauled herself out of bed. She needed some piece of mind. She needed to go to Massive Dynamic. Walter and Nina had a battery of tests to run, but they couldn't go to lab because the smells were so pungent that Olivia got sick just walking through the door. So they needed going to go all the way to Massive Dynamic even though she had a migraine to get the first answers that she would trust.

She and Peter had gone to a few doctor's appointments with a normal doctor in a normal doctor's office. Everything seemed healthy and normal, but Olivia didn't think they knew what they were talking about. Those doctors were not aware her history.

She kept her eyes closed even in the unlit bedroom. This made it hard to navigate the tower of boxes, mostly blocking the entrance to the bathroom. Olivia had given up her lease a few weeks ago and they had yet to find the perfect place. The house Peter had found in the newspaper had needed a lot of work; too much work to bring a new baby home to. This meant that Olivia's furniture was in storage and the rest of her things were in boxes around the campus house.

She knocked into a box filled with sweaters and it toppled to the ground.

"God damn, we need to find a place!" Olivia said loudly and immediately regretted the volume.

"I know, honey," said Peter. He ventured further into the room. "Here, I'll get it."

"Thank you," she said and disappeared into the bathroom.

With her eyes squeezed closed, she found her way to the edge of the tub. She reached over blindly for the nobs. The sound of the pounding water hurt. The light from the frosted window hurt.

Hot, steamy air was already filling the room. She felt Peter sit down beside her. He shifted her body so they were sitting more or less one in front of one another. His powerful hands made there way up her spin. He began to massage her shoulders and her neck.

"No burrowing," she said. She was teasing; her head was already starting to feel marginally better.

"No burrowing," he promised.

After a little while, he slipped his hands under her shirt and pulled it over her head. He kissed her bare skin of her shoulder and slowly worked his way up her neck. She sighed with what could almost count as pleasure. It still felt far away, buried underneath the throbbing.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Is there anything else I can do?"

"Make her give me a few days off. Or just one day where I don't feel sick."

"Him," corrected Peter.

"Her," said Olivia firmly. They didn't know the sex yet. Today would be the first ultrasound where they might be able to tell.

"Should we find out?" he asked.

"I thought you didn't want to."

"I didn't but this guessing game is tearing us apart."

Olivia laughed. She was convinced the baby was a girl, another Dunham girl. He was convinced the baby was a boy just to be contradictory. They'd been playing this back and forth almost since Olivia announced she was pregnant. "I'd like to know. It makes _her_ seem more like a person."

"Okay. We'll see if we can find out."

"Okay," she answered.

They were still sitting one in front of each other as the water ran in the tub. They were both quiet for a moment. Olivia glanced down at her exposed stomach. The little bump that was barely noticeable. She was only a little over three months pregnant. She noticed because, well, her body was her body. Peter noticed because he knew her body so well.

"I should get in the shower," she said, intentionally interrupting the moment.

He got up and she turned to look up at him. "I'm going to make us some snacks for the road."

"No cheese," said Olivia quickly. It was her newest trigger food.

"Don't worry, I remember. I think you purged the last of it yesterday anyway."

"Thank you," she said.

He smiled softly. He understood what she meant. She wasn't saying thank you for making snacks, but for taking care of her and putting up with her. "It's the least I can do. You're grown a little soul in there. I want to make it as easy as possible."

"Well, thank you. I'll come down when I'm ready."

"Alright, but take your time."

When he had left, Olivia undressed and got into the streaming water. She did feel a little better after Peter's healing hands, although she still moved slower than usual. She let the water pour over her body and willed it to ease the rest of her migraine away.

Half an hour later, Peter and Olivia climbed into the SUV. For the first time in all weekend, she had replaced her uniform of a t-shirt and sweatpants with a pair of jeans, one of the sweaters she had knocked over, her leather jacket, and a thick scarf she could hide under if need be. She shielded her eyes with a pair of dark sunglasses though the day was overcast.

Peter handed her a snack baggie before backing the car out of the driveway. She took it without arguing and ate slowly as they headed towards the highway and the Massive Dynamic satellite office on the far side of Boston.

The motion of the car was calming and Olivia closed her eyes, leaning back against the passenger seat. He reached over, places his hand on her knee, and just let it rest there. The weight was comforting. Though, much like his massage earlier, the comfort only reached so far.

The morning sickness and things like her aversion to cheese were physical. These migraines were more than likely psychological. As were the constant clenched jaw, tight shoulders, and endless list of things that could be keep the little soul, as Peter called their baby, from being at the very least healthy.

With her eyes closed, she tried to rest and by rest she meant desperately try to quiet her mind. It was filled with a loud chattering of concerns and questions and worries and fears and a powerful desire to protect what she didn't even have yet.

She must have fallen asleep or half-asleep because the next thing Olivia knew the light shifted abruptly on the other side of her eyelids. She opened her eyes and Peter maneuvered the car through the parking garage beneath the office building. Massive Dynamic's satellite office occupied the top seven floors of the structure. It was one of the smallest of their offices and Olivia thought Nina kept it open as a reason to come to Boston every other week.

They got out of the car when Peter had found a spot suitably close to the elevators. They crossed the dingy structure and into an elevator. He took her hand and squeezed as the doors closed.

"You know this is unnecessary, right? It's a precaution. We're just checking up. She's okay."

She tried to smile. "You said she. You think it's a girl too." It wasn't an answer to his questions. She wasn't joking; she was avoiding the subject.

Peter let her. "Maybe I do. Maybe I like the idea of having Daddy's little girl running around the house."

"I like that idea too." Now, she really did smile. "But either way as long as he or she is healthy."

"And doesn't levitate or have an extra head." He grinned.

"Don't tease me. This is serious."

"I know. I'm just trying to lighten the mood. Would a levitating baby really be that bad, though?"

She didn't get a chance to answer because the elevator doors opened onto the top floor. They stepped into the white, stark reception area of Massive Dynamic Boston. The woman behind the desk waved them through. She knew the couple well.

Olivia and Peter followed the long, empty hallway to the large office. Olivia pushed open the door without knocking. It had taken years for her to work up this kind of familiarly with Nina.

She sat behind her ornate desk, reading a file. She dropped the papers as soon as Olivia and Peter entered.

"There you are," said Nina as she got up and moved around the desk. "I was about to call."

"Migraine," said Olivia as Nina gave her a hug.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry. We'll make this as quick as possible." She let go of Olivia and looked to Peter. "Hello, Peter."

"Nina," he said with a nod. "Is Walter already here?"

"Yes, Astrid brought him over about an hour ago," said Nina.

"Is she still here?" asked Olivia.

"No, I promised we'd find away to get him back to his lab."

"Has he destroyed anything yet?" said Peter.

"No, not yet, but I did get a call from one of scientists making sure he was allowed to touch the equipment," Nina said.

They were trying to put Olivia at ease. It wasn't working.

"Can we…" Olivia began, but didn't bother to finish.

"Of course," said Nina. "Follow me."

Olivia didn't want to waste anymore time. They went back into the hallway and to one of the labs. Peter and Olivia walked a few steps behind Nina. Olivia's carefully sculpted calm was falling apart very quickly. Too many what ifs were running in her head again. She'd been trying to push them aside for days, but now she was facing the answers to her questions. One way or another these tests were going to tell them if her baby was healthy and normal. Peter reached out and took her hand again.

"Hold onto me," she said, quietly so that even Nina didn't hear.

"I'm not letting you go," he said.

Nina led the way into the lab. It was bright and clean. It was filled with machinery, equipment, and an examining table. The counter tops were cluttered with more testing equipment and test tubes and other items that Olivia couldn't identify. Walter was also there wearing a slightly askew lab coat.

"Olivia!" Walter cried.

He ran towards her and enveloped her in a great hug. This had been his reaction almost every time he had seen her over the past few months. She thought it was combination of excitement about his first grandchild and overcompensating for the guilt he felt over what he had done to her on the cargo ship. Peter had to let go of Olivia's hand to keep from getting pulled along.

"Hi Walter," said Olivia. "Would you please not speak so loudly?"

"I'm so sorry. Another migraine, is it?" He didn't quite let go, but held on to her shoulders.

"Yes," said Olivia simply.

"It's why we want to get this process moving as quickly as possible," said Nina.

"Oh yes! Of course!" said Walter, still too loudly for Olivia.

"Let her go, Walter," said Peter.

He gently pulled one of Walter's hands away from Olivia.

"Right! Let's get started," said Walter. "If you would put on the grown and get onto the table. I'll start with the blood tests."

This is why they were here. To use Walter intellect and his experience of Cortexiphan and combine it with the resources that Nina and Massive Dynamic could offer. But now Olivia found her feet glued to the ground. She looked to Peter again and exhaled a little shaky breath. He again took her hand.

"You can cross universes and move things with your mind and be in gun fights and stare down Observers and generally be the bravest person I know and yet you are scared of a blood test," he said.

"It's not the test I scared of. It's the results."

"I know, Liv. But the other doctors say everything is fine. We're just double-checking."

"I want the baby to be okay."

He kissed her on the forehead. "I know, Liv. One step at a time. C'mon." He pulled lightly on her hand.

She moved her feet. It was a quick, quiet moment between two scared soon-to-be parents. The other two were already busy getting preparing the equipment; they didn't notice. With Peter still leading the way, they went to the examine table, picked up the hospital grown, and handed it to her.

"You can change behind the curtain," said Nina.

"Do you want help?" asked Peter with a twinkle in his eye.

"No, Peter, I can manage," said Olivia.

"Are you sure?" he said and let his hand linger over her ass.

"Yes, I'm sure." She smiled; it was small, but it was genuine.

The momentary ease disappeared just as quickly as soon as Olivia was seated on the cold examination table. Peter was sitting on a stool with an elbow resting on her thigh. Walter buzzed around taking various samples and performing various tests. Nina was collecting the samples. A few technicians appeared to take them samples to be tested.

Olivia didn't understand any of what they were doing. She had her eyes on the ultrasound machine waiting off to the side. She'd had one other ultrasound; they'd seen the heartbeat, but that was two months ago. A lot would have changed. She knew the only thing that would make her really feel better. She needed to hear Doctor Walter Bishop—even with his many and varied eccentricities—tell her that her baby was healthy.

Walter finally handed one last vial to Nina. "That's done. You can get changed and we'll do the ultrasound."

Olivia nodded and slid off the table. She went back behind the curtain and, discarding the gown, pulled her jeans and the t-shirt she had had on under her sweater.

"Did you tell them?" asked Peter.

"Tell us what?" said Nina.

"We want to find out the baby's sex," said Olivia, reappearing.

"That is exciting!" Walter said.

"I thought you wanted it to be surprise, Peter," Nina said.

"I changed my mind," Peter said. "We deal with enough surprises."

"Wonderful! Back on the table Olivia and lie back. Son, move around to the other side."

Olivia shifted her position. Peter got up from his stool and moved to the other side of the examination table, closer to her head. As soon as he was in a better place, he took hold of her hand again.

Walter, meanwhile, was turning on the ultrasound. "Is your bladder full?" he asked.

The other three rolled their eyes. While it was technically a valid medical question, coming from Walter, it seemed childish. No one even bothered to answer. The bottle of gel made a loud, inappropriate squelching noise as Walter applied it to the probe. Peter rolled his eyes again and smiled at Olivia.

Walter moved closer and motioned for Olivia to pull up her shirt. She followed his instructions. He placed the probe against her exposed stomach. The darkened screen of the ultrasound machine jumped to life. Then came the agonizing minute as Walter searched for the baby's position.

The phone rang. All four of them jumped. Nina moved away from little group and picked it up. She spoke to whoever it was in a low voice. Walter couldn't be distracted. He continued moving the probe over Olivia's stomach.

Olivia realized she was holding her breath. She had to remind herself to just breath. She squeezed Peter's hand; he squeezed back. They were double-checking. Everything was fine. Her baby was fine. They were just making sure.

The sound echoed through the lab. The beautiful heartbeat. Olivia really started breathing again.

"There's the head and the spine," Walter said and marked it on the screen. "It's a strong heartbeat."

Nina rejoined them and peered at the monitor. "I don't see anything to indicate it's a boy."

"She means she doesn't see a penis," said Walter.

"Yes, Walter, we know what she meant," said Peter.

"So it's a girl?" Olivia asked.

Walter didn't answer right away, but kept moving the probe across her skin. "In my professional opinion, I am going to have a granddaughter," he said at last and with an enormous grin.

"And she looks healthy?" said Peter, smiling himself as he said 'she' with certainty.

"She looks perfect. This is a perfectly healthy baby. She's a good size too," Walter said.

"And that was the technician on the phone," said Nina. "No anomalies found."

"Perfectly healthy," repeated Peter.

Olivia didn't quite know whether to laugh or cry so she did a little of both. Her migraine had vanished and the weight melted away.

Hours later, they were lying naked in bed back in Peter's house. They tumbled into the sheets almost as soon as they walked in the door. The relief had washed over both of them, leaving nothing but passion. Weeks of tension released like a floodgate. All the pent up energy slipped over. They were relieved; they were happy; they were in love; they were a family.

Olivia was on her back with her head against the pillows. Peter lay on his stomach beside her with his cheek resting on her stomach. She ran he long fingers ran through his hair again and again.

Her eyes were half closed; she thought he was asleep. They had said anything for along time. She was watching her stomach rising and falling in time with her breathing.

She was happy. For the first time, she was enjoying being pregnant. Her daughter was healthy and growing. Her stomach had a roundness to it; the skin stretched tight. Wearing a shirt was enough to cover it. She had on nothing right now and was feeling brave enough to really look.

"She's in there, isn't she?" said Peter, breaking the easy quiet.

A wide smiled spread across her face. "She is."

"Have you felt anything? Any movement, I mean."

"It's too early, I think."

"I want to feel her."

"Me too."

"It feels real now," he said.

She nodded. "I was scared to make any kind of plans or even think about the future. There were too many options. Do you know what I mean? Too many ways this could turn out. I can see us now."

He lifted his head, placed his chin on her stomach, and smiled. "What you see?"

She closed her eyes. "Bringing her home for the first time. Bath time. Playing in the park. Watching her grow up."

"It's beautiful. We get to be like every other parent now."

"Excited, but still scared."

"Not scared, nervous because we just want what's best for our baby girl."

"I want her to have the world."

"And we are going to give it to her."

"I love you," she said.

"I love you," he answered.

They stopped talking for a while. He put his head back on her belly.

"Hey," she said after the pause.

"Yeah?"

"I'm getting cold. You either come up here and warm me up or we do something to make us both warmer."

Without saying anything else, he began to move up the bed, kissing her skin as he came closer. She swallowed. He reached her collarbone. Her back arched slightly and she sighed. He moved up her throat, along her jaw, and then to her lips. She pushed back, trying to get even closer.

He rolled over and took her with him. She straddled across his torso. He sat up, still looking for her lips.

"Are you happy?" he said, his voice low.

"Yes," she said.

He kissed her as he ran his hands through her long, blonde hair. He pulled it behind her neck and over her shoulder.

"Say it again," Peter said.

"I have never been happier."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Comments = love. Keep looking for the next part!


	3. Reintroduction

Reintroduction:

It had not been on purpose. Olivia had to keep telling herself as she sat in the passenger seat.

It had been three months since she'd really talked to Rachel and she had to remind herself she hadn't intentionally pushed her sister away. She didn't know what to say. How do you explain to your little sister you forgot her son? Or you thought her husband was an asshole and then when he left it was a good thing? Or you're almost five months pregnant with a man's child and you, technically, only met him six months ago? You can't.

So, she pretended everything was fine. She pretended work was as crazy as ever. And she let it slip she was seeing somebody, and that was also keeping her busy. That's why she hadn't picked up her phone the night before. She'd been at his place and well, you know, occupied.

Olivia didn't say she'd been at Peter's because she had ended the lease on her apartment months ago. They had been meeting with a real estate agent to place a bid on a house for their family.

But it was time Rachel knew. So now, Olivia nervously sat in the passenger seat of the rental car driving to Rachel's house for a long weekend.

The baby kicked and Olivia rubbed the spot.

"Rip the band aid off," said Peter.

Olivia looked up, watching for a moment as the street lamps illuminated his face and then threw it into shadow again. "What are you talking about?"

He held out his hand and she took it. He gave it a gentle squeezed. "It's better to just rip the band aid off. Get it over with quickly. It hurts less in the long run."

"Yeah, with band aids. Not so sure how turning up and saying 'surprise! I'm pregnant' will go over."

"Liv?"

She sighed. "What?"

"You're not a teenager. You're driving home to tell her parents you're dropping out of college 'cause some guy knocked you up. You're an adult who is capable of making adult decisions."

"But you are some guy who knocked me up," Olivia said, but she was smiling. "At least that's how Rachel will see it. She's not going to disown me, but I don't want her to hate you or our baby."

"She may dislike me at first and I can win her over with my charm, but she is going to love the baby. She's going to be a good aunt just like you are to Ella and Eddie. You're family."

"Have I been a good aunt? This will be the first time I can remember seeing Eddie."

"It happens. It's not like they live a block away and you're been ignoring them. With our job and the house and getting ready for the baby, we've been busy. We had to plan two months in advance to make sure this weekend got on the calendar."

"I'm scared this will change the way she feels about me."

"It might, Liv. But it's not going to change the fact she loves you. You two have been through too much. It's going to be a surprise, but it's a good surprise." He smiled softly, then let go so he could turn the wheel the corner onto Maple Drive. "What's the house number again?"

"317. I think it's the one on the left."

He pulled the car into the drive and cut the engine. "This is going to be a lot tonight. I know it's going to be hard. You say the word and we'll leave. It's not going to take Rachel long to notice, and we can always use it as an excuse."

They were staying in a hotel ten minutes away, even though Rachel had a guest bedroom. Olivia had been worried about Rachel's reaction and being stuck in the house. She knew she was being silly and blowing it out of proportion, but she was scared. She didn't know this Rachel. There were things she couldn't remember.

"Our baby is not an excuse," said Olivia, only half teasing.

He hunched over and kissed her belly as best he could in the small car. The baby bump wasn't big, just a rounded mound sticking out a little more than a hand's width. Olivia hoped the flowy green shirt she was wearing under a jean jacket would help hide it. She wanted to tell Rachel, not have her figure it out.

Olivia ran her fingers through his hair. His cheek was resting against her belly. "Hello, baby girl, how are you tonight? I know you are not an excuse. I meant we could use the fact that you are growing inside Mommy as an excuse. If you could let Mommy eat cheese again, I personally would appreciate it. I miss Friday pizza night." He sat up again and stole a quick kiss from Olivia. "It's just not the same without the cheese. Are you ready?"

She smiled and rolled her eyes at herself. "No."

"Yes, you are. Come on, they are going to be wondering why we're just sitting in the driveway."

He opened the car door and got out. He stood at the front of car and waited for Olivia to move. She took a deep breath and placed her hands over her belly. One more deep breath, and she finally got out of the car.

Together, they walked up the little brick path to the red painted front door. Peter rang the doorbell.

"We have to paint our door red too," said Olivia.

Or rather she started to say. There came the sound of kids squealing and them running through the house. The door flew open. "Aunt Liv!" Ella cried and prepared to launch herself at her aunt.

Peter and Olivia both reacted. She stepped backwards off the little stoop, and Peter grabbed Ella around the waist as her feet left the ground.

"Take it easy," said Peter as he placed Ella back down.

Ella looked hurt and confused. She looked up at Peter and then to Olivia.

"It's okay. Come here," said Olivia, trying to recover the moment.

She held out her arms. Tentatively, Ella moved closer for the hug. "It's so good to see you. I've missed you," said Olivia.

Ella hugged back.

When Olivia straightened, Rachel and Greg, who was holding Eddie, were also in the doorway. Greg had completely missed what had just happened and was introducing himself to Peter. Rachel's face was puzzled as she reached over to hug her sister.

"Hi, Rach," said Olivia.

"We missed you too. Is everything all right? What was that with Ella?"

"Everything's fine."

"Just checking," Rachel said and squeezed tightly. Then, she froze. She pulled back and her eyes widened. Olivia tried to keep her face neutral.

"I want you to meet Peter," Olivia said, still working hard not to seem phased.

"It's nice to meet you," said Peter and only Olivia caught the awkward way he said it. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

Greg copied the gesture with Olivia when she finally got inside the house. Olivia also took a moment to say hello to Eddie. As soon as the front door was closed, Rachel grabbed Olivia's elbow. "Would you help me get the—never mind. We need to talk."

Olivia looked helplessly at Peter and let her sister drag her into the kitchen. Rachel let go. "Okay, what's going on? He's cute, Liv, but oh my God."

"Um, what are you talking about?" said Olivia unconvincingly. She was a good undercover agent. She stayed calm and was able to come up with a story when she needed to, except when she was talking to her sister. 'Um, what are you talking about?' was not a good cover story.

"Don't, Liv."

Olivia closed her eyes for a moment and let out a deep breath. "I'm pregnant," she said and braced for the fallout.

Rachel immediately pulled her into another tight hug. "It's okay. We'll figure this out. It's going to be okay." She let go. "God, how far along are you?"

"Five months. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. It's a complicate situation."

"You just met this guy. Are you sure you're ready for this? This isn't like you. You don't usually act so irrationally."

"If you say it must be the pregnancy hormones, I'm leaving."

"Olivia, be serious. Why weren't you more careful? You've been so different lately. Is this the reason?"

"This is part of what's changed. I told you the situation is complicated. But I love him and he loves me."

"How can you possibly know that? Have you known him long enough to say that will certainty?" Rachel said with a frustrate sigh.

This was exactly what Olivia had been afraid of. There was no excitement. Rachel thought the small family Olivia was so close to having was a mistake. What could she say to make Rachel understand what she and Peter had gone through?

"Don't belittle my relationship because from your perspective it doesn't make sense," Olivia snapped.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rachel said.

"It means it's complicated."

"Explain it to me."

"I can't. It's part of my—"

"Your job? Please—this once—don't hide behind _that_."

"I've known Peter for a lot longer, just not in this timeline," Olivia blurred out. "You knew him too. In my mind, I've known him four years and we've been through a whole hell of lot together. I trust him with my life, and I actually have many times. He's the love of my life, and he is going to be an amazing father." She was desperate to make her sister understand.

"You're right. That doesn't make any sense."

"There are an infinite number of parallel universes and timelines all moving forward at the same time." Olivia said. Her hands moved quickly to try and help illustrate. "In another timeline, we never went to live with Nina. You only have one child. Peter joined Fringe division with his father four years ago. Peter is not from this timeline. He sacrificed himself to save two universes from a war both sides would have lost. But he found a way back to this timeline and because a series of complicated and traumatic events I have the memories from the original timeline too. I am not entirely the Olivia you think I am. I still love you. I will always love you."

Rachel frowned. "I don't even think my reaction means I don't love you because I love you, too. I'm just trying to understand."

"I can't make it much simpler. It comes down to whether you believe me or not."

Rachel didn't answer right away. "What do you mean traumatic?"

Olivia just shook her head; she unconsciously placed her hands on her belly. "You don't want to know and I don't want to talk about it. Not yet. It still scares me, especially with this little one coming. I need you to be happy for me and trust I know what I'm doing."

Rachel pulled her into another hug. "I am happy for you, Liv. You have wanted this for so long. I'm just worried."

"You won't be once you get to know Peter."

"Wow, Liv. A baby."

Olivia smiled. "I know.

"Let me see."

She turned sideways and pulled her shirt taut, still smiling. Every once and awhile, all the worried melted away and she felt happy and excited and maybe even ready to be a mom.

Rachel grabbed her belly. "God, Liv. You look amazing. I got huge like right away. Both times. Do you remember?"

Olivia wrapped her arms across her belly when Rachel let go. "I remember." She didn't strictly remember the second time. "Are you really okay with this?"

"The question is are _you_ really okay?"

"I have never been happier."

"Okay, then I'm happy. Beside, I get to be an aunt. It's exciting." Rachel gave Olivia one more hug. "I'm not entirely sure what's going. This is a lot."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I don't know how you do it."

"I'm managing."

Rachel looked at for a moment. Maybe seeing her for the first in a long time. "Of course you are. Should we go rescue the men folk?"

"Sure. I also want to tell Eddie and Ella about their new cousin."

Rachel nodded. "Let me just get the cheese and the wine. Though, I guess I should only get three glasses. Go ahead."

Olivia managed to find her way to living room even though she was supposed to know where it was already. The house had a simple layout and comfortably furnished. Pictures of family lined the wall of the hallway she wondered down. There was one of the two sisters with their mother. Olivia rubbed her belly again.

She found the others. Peter was sitting on the sofa with Ella at the far end. Greg sat in a high back chair on the other side of the coffee table with Eddie at his feet. They were having some awkward conversation about politics.

"You girls all right?" asked Greg.

Peter looked up at Olivia, his eyes asking the same question, but more earnestly. She settled next to him and pulled Ella onto her lap.

"Yes," said Olivia. "There's actually something we wanted to announce."

She had one hand wrapped around Ella's waist, and the other reached out for Peter. He took it; their fingers laced together.

"Yes? What is it?" said Rachel in an exaggerated way as she put the platter with cheese and crackers on the coffee table. Eddie got up and helped himself to a handful.

"Yeah, what is it?" said Ella.

"You are going to be getting a new baby cousin," Peter said.

Greg looked surprised. Ella took a moment to process the information. Eddie couldn't have cared less.

"Well, that was fast," said Greg. "Did waste any time did you, Peter?" He laughed.

Olivia ignored him. She was too taken with Ella response.

"What do you mean?" said Ella. She slid off Olivia's lap and stood with her hand on her hips, as if she was mad her aunt was lying to her.

"Do you remember when your mom had Eddie? Do you remember how her belly got really big?"

"Thanks, Liv," said Rachel in the background.

"Yeah," Ella said slowly.

"Well, there's a baby in my belly," said Olivia and she rubbed her stomach.

At last, Ella understood what they were saying, and she started jumping up and down. "A baby! Aunt Liv! Wow!"

"You weren't this excited about your brother," said Rachel, laughing.

Ella ignored her mother. "You have a baby in your belly. That's amazing! Can I feel?"

Olivia smiled and nodded. Ella reached out with both her hands. The baby had been quiet for much of the evening. She'd been active in the car ride when Olivia had been so nervous. The baby was moving again with all the raised voices.

Ella felt her kick. Her eyes got very big. "Wow," she said.

"You used to do that with Eddie, don't you remember?" said Rachel, watching the scene.

"I remember, but that was my silly brother. This is my cousin," Ella said.

The adults laugh. Ella pulled away and crossed her arms.

Olivia felt the baby do a somersault at the sound. She liked this being so connected. She squeezed Peter's hand and he squeezed back.

"All right you two," said Rachel, after about an hour. "It's time for bed."

Ella began to argue. Rachel held up a hand. "You've had an extra hour. Now march."

"Can Aunt Liv do it?" asked Ella, looking hopeful.

"No, she's not here to babysit. March," Rachel said, getting up from her seat and gearing up for a bedtime battle.

"I don't mind," said Olivia.

Ella brightened.

"Oh Liv, you don't have to," said Rachel.

"I want to. Don't worry about it," Olivia said. She got up from the couch and Rachel dropped back into her chair.

Ella was already racing up the stairs. "Come on, Aunt Liv."

"Are you sure?" asked Rachel again.

"Of course," said Olivia. "It's practice, right?"

She held out a hand to Eddie, who reached up and took it without questioning. He knew who she was. She waited patiently as Eddie climbed each step by himself. She was surprised and grateful she felt something for the little boy. Even thought some of her memories had faded, the feelings were not lost. She still loved Nina and was glad to see her. The same feelings stirred when she saw Ella as it did now looking down at the little blond hair boy holding her hand.

She heard Rachel say, "She's going to be a great mom."

"The best," answered Peter with his voice strangely hoarse.

Olivia smiled to herself. Maybe it worked in both ways. Maybe Rachel remembered a little of Peter.

When both children were both finally asleep, Olivia slipped out of Ella bedroom. She was just closing the door when she saw Rachel creeping up the stairs.

"Everything all right?" whispered Rachel.

"Yeah. Both asleep," said Olivia.

Rachel shook her head. "You have to give me you secret. That was record time. Dinner is ready."

Olivia shrugged. "They're good kids."

"Most of time," said Rachel with a laugh. "They can be terrors. Do remember a few Christmases ago right after Eddie was born and we took them to see Santa and—"

"No," said Olivia in a flat tone. "I don't remember."

She took a few steps back towards the first floor. Rachel grabbed her shoulder. "You were serious?"

"About what?" asked Olivia.

"About your memories being different."

"Yes, I was."

Rachel gapped at her. "I didn't really believe you."

Olivia shrugged. "It wasn't on purpose, but it's the way it is."

"So you don't remember Nina or Eddie or…" she trailed away.

"I've gotten some of it back. Nina's reminded me of a lot of things."

"She knows about this?"

"Yes, she's kind of part of my division. She has clearance. I wasn't supposed to tell what most of what I told you."

Rachel grabbed her arm. "Don't cut me out, okay? I don't care about your job or the rules or the government. We're family. I don't like you and Nina have been keeping secrets from me."

"Don't blame Nina. I made her promise."

"I'm not mad at anyone. This is so far over my head. I'm just asking to be kept in the loop."

"I wasn't doing it on purpose. I just didn't know what to say."

"I wouldn't know what to say either. But just don't pull away."

Olivia kissed her sister on the cheek. "I promise. I'm going to need your advice."

Rachel sighed and shook her head. "I don't get your life."

"To be honest, me neither."

Rachel laughed while Olivia gave her most convincing smile. Rachel turned back around and Olivia followed her down the stairs. She tried to push her fear aside. Tonight was for family. Tonight was not for the seemingly insurmountable worries. As soon as they reentered the living room, Peter and Greg stood up. Olivia moved at once to Peter's side. She felt unsteady, raddled.

Rachel showed them into the dinning room. She then practically had to force Greg—over his complaining and eye rolling—to help get the plates. Both Peter and Olivia sat at the table in silence and yet tried not to listen to the other couple in the kitchen.

She heard Rachel say, "Just stop it. Be nice."

"Fine," Greg snapped back.

Moments later, Greg and Rachel reappeared with smiles plastered on their faces. Olivia was reminded of another worry. She didn't like Greg. She never had. She didn't like the way he was sulking now. Olivia had never wanted to see her sister go through so much pain, but she had been revealed when he had left despite the trouble it had caused.

But Olivia said nothing. Like so many other things, she kept it to herself. She spent the rest of the meal trying to speak normally. Answer questions. Tell stories. Smile. But she had to follow Peter's lead. He was as charming as ever. He was putting Rachel at easy and Olivia wished it worked on her too.

When the plates were clean, Rachel looked at Olivia. "Liv, I could use help with the dessert."

Dutifully, Olivia stood up and reached for Peter's plate. He beat her to it and grabbed her plate as well. He followed the two sisters into the kitchen. Greg made a disgruntled sigh as he watched them leave the dinning room.

Rachel deposited her stack of dishes into the sink and turned around. She seemed surprised to see Peter in the kitchen with them.

"Oh you didn't have to," said Rachel.

"I know," Peter said.

"Well, thanks. Would you mind keeping Greg company? I want talk to my sister for a second."

"Sure thing. I'm just helping with the dishes," he said.

He kissed Olivia on the cheek before leaving.

"I'm okay," said Olivia. "Really."

"Okay, just checking."

He returned to the dinning room. Greg said something like, "Women."

"He's worried about you," said Rachel.

"This has all been really hard on me," Olivia said with a shrug.

Rachel crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, a lot of things. For one, I was really nervous about tonight. I don't like keeping things from you, especially something like this." She rubbed her belly. "I wasn't sure how you would react. Besides, the pregnancy had been tough."

"Morning sickness?"

"Yes, all the time. She's taking it out of me." Olivia was still rubbing her belly.

"She?" asked Rachel, her eyes widening.

"It's a girl," answered Olivia with a wide smile. "We're trying to keep it quiet though."

Once again, Rachel threw her arms around Olivia. "This is really exciting. And you don't have to worry about me. I like Peter. I still don't understand, but I trust you."

Olivia sighed with an immense relief. She stepped away from Rachel. "I'm so glad."

"I was prepared to hate him. I think I tried, but I gave up almost as soon as we went back into the living room."

"Why?" said Olivia with a curious frown.

"You sat down on the couch and reach out. He took your hand because he knew you wanted him to. You two fit together. He loves you."

Olivia nodded. "He does. And he's fought through so much to be with me."

"I told you I'm not worried anymore."

"That good to hear 'cause I am."

"It's a good kind of nervous, right? Nervous and excited?"

Olivia smiled and nodded, trying to convince her sister that was all it is.

"You're going to be fine," said Rachel. "It gets easier."

"I hope so."

"Okay, let's go back to menfolk. Greg's getting antsy." She rolled her eyes. "I can tell from here."

When they returned the dinning room, Olivia looked to Peter. He looked up and knew what she meant. Olivia was ready to go. She didn't actually have say anything. The evening ended quickly. No one blamed her. Greg and Peter shook hands. The sisters said goodbye and made plans for the next day. One big, happy family.

They climbed back into the car and Peter started the engine. "So Greg is not as bad as I thought he would be."

"He was on his best behavior. That was always the problem. He could be a good guy if he wanted to be. He just rarely wants to be. Or at least the Greg I used to know."

"Rachel seemed the same. And Ella too."

"Yeah, I think so."

They were quiet for the rest of the ride, as they returned to the hotel, and as they got ready for bed. Olivia disappeared into the bathroom. She changed into sweatpants and a MIT t-shirt, brushed her teeth and removed the little bit of makeup she was wearing.

She didn't really know what to make of her reflection in the soft lights. The warm sensation of being connected from earlier was entirely gone. She was left with the reality of becoming a mother in this world. She wanted to be a mom, but she also wanted her child to be safe. She just didn't know how to ensure that. She had looked Rachel in the eye and tried to convince her sister she was ready for to be a mom. The truth was Olivia didn't feel even a little bit ready.

There was her job and everything she had seen and done—and had done to her—since joining the Fringe division. The first black mark. There were the Cortexiphan trials and what that had done to her. The second. Then there was her own mother, her only example. Her mother had been a wonderful woman who had made some terrible decisions. After Olivia's father had died, she had lost her focus.

Olivia had been focused to take charge of the house and of Rachel from that point on. That lack of focus had been where her stepfather had entered. It had been where her mother's cancer had rooted and been allowed to grow. Olivia knew it was unfair, but she had never believed her mother had fought very hard. But that was in her blood along with the Cortexiphan. The third mark. Three strikes you're out.

She took a deep, shaky breath. She went back into the main room. Peter was sitting on the edge of bed, half way through changing. He pulled off his shirt and looked up at her.

"Liv, what's up? I thought everything went well tonight. Is everything really okay?"

Olivia shrugged. "It was just different than I was excepting."

"Rachel's reaction? She seemed excited."

"I don't know. We've been in this bubble in Boston. It's just strange to have thing all out in open. To have people having opinions about our situation."

"What situation?"

"Our memories of the old timeline. To most people we've known each other less than a year and I'm pregnant already."

"Is this about what Greg said? About us moving quickly? Because that was point where I could see the guy I'd heard about."

"No, it's not that."

He cupped her face for a moment. "C'mon, Liv. I'm trying to help. Talk to me."

"Rachel said it wasn't like me," she blurted out. "What if it's not?"

"What you mean 'it's' not like you?"

"Oh never mind."

"No, Olivia, I want to know." He looked her with his big, earnest eyes. He really was trying to understand.

"What if I'm not supposed to be mother? What if—"

"Stop," he said gently. She was standing barely a foot away from him. He reached out, took hold of her hips, and then pulled her even closer. He pushed up the t-shirt, exposing her rounded belly. He pressed his cheek against her skin. She ran her hands over his strong shoulders and locked her fingers behind his neck.

Peter kept talking. She could feel his voice just as much as she could hear it. "You are going to be wonderful mom. Don't doubt that for a minute. I think Rachel was referring to how quickly everything seems to be happening. I'm willing to admit this was not planned at all, but we would've had kids eventually. It's just sooner then we planned, and I know it's complicated with all the mixed up timelines."

"It's just hard to shake the feeling."

Olivia gave him an uneasy smiled. She pulled away from Peter and crawled across the bed behind him. The maids had already turned down the sheets. She lay on her side with her back to him. She tucked one arm under her head on the pillow, and the other draped across her belly.

She wouldn't say it out loud, but she was beginning to doubt. The other side was gone, well not gone, just unreachable and the number of Fringe events had only marginally decreased. It was still a dangerous world. She was still having doubts that her baby would be healthy; she was still having doubts that this was the kind of world she wanted to bring a baby into. It wasn't about not wanting to meet her child or wanting to be a mother. What you wanted and what is actually possible were two very different things.

She wanted to ask if he really thought this was a good idea. She knew she'd been the one who brought up the subject so many months ago. And then just as quickly taken it back. She had Peter, and she could have been satisfied. She would have sacrificed her desire to a mom to keep her child from suffering. But she'd never really had a chance after she'd listened to the heartbeat on the ultrasound. She was in love with her baby, and because of that she wanted her to be healthy, happy and have every chance to get both those things. Could Olivia provide the best chance?

She didn't say any of this and Peter didn't let her stay inside her head for long. The mattress shifted as he moved closer. He rested his chin on her hip. Pushing her hand out of the way a bit, he pressed his own hand against her round stomach. She looked over her shoulder at him.

"I know you're worried," he said. "I am too, but we're psyching ourselves out. I have doubts about my own parenting skills, but you are going to be a wonderful mother. I watched just tonight with Ella and Eddie. With every kid we see in Walter's lab, you can make them comfortable with even the scariest experiment. That's one thing you shouldn't worried about."

The baby kicked. Olivia made a small noise. It was a hard kick.

"Did you feel that?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. It filled him with wonder every time the baby moved. "See, she's telling you everything is fine. She's says, 'It's okay, Mom. Look, I'm strong."

The baby kicked again and added a somersault. Peter smiled. And sensation was back, or at least of begins of it. She was going to be a mother, and her daughter was growing and moving inside her.

"Come here," said Olivia as she tugged on his shoulder.

He scooted further up the bed, so his face was next to hers. She kissed him. "I said you were going to have to keep reminding me."

"Everything is going to be okay. We can do this," he said automatically.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

"Let's talk about something else. Where's the book?"

"Are you sure? We were up late last night doing this too."

"I think she likes it when you read. She calms down at least."

"See? Great mom. Hang on."

He got off the bed and rummaged around in one suitcase they had brought. He pulled out a small, colorful book that was already becoming worn. After turning out all the lights except for the one on the nightstand and pulling the covers over her, he slid beneath the sheets too. He lay on his back. As soon he was settled, Olivia flipped over as gracefully as she could and put her head on his chest.

He kissed the top of her head and then opened book. He removed the pen being used as bookmark. She closed her eyes.

"Helena," read Peter.

"No," she said.

"Helewidis."

"What kind of name is that?"

"It says ancient Germanic."

"Still no."

"What about Helga?"

"Ah, no."

"Hellen with two l's."

"No."

"Hendel."

"It's a composer," said Olivia.

"Henrietta. My grandfather's name was Henry. I like the idea of naming her after family. "

"Really? You like Henrietta? It's kind of old fashioned."

"We could call her Etta."

"That's cute. It's a maybe. Put it on the list."

He scribbled it on the inside of the back cover beneath about a dozen others.

"Next," she instructed.

"Hera."

"That's Roman goddess, isn't it?"

"Greek, I think."

"Either way, no. Next."


	4. Priorities

Part 4: Priorities

Peter secured his bullet proof vest into place. "And you stay here," he said and pointed a firm finger in Olivia's direction.

She held up her hands in surrender. "Don't worry. I wasn't planning on going anywhere."

They were—along with about a dozen or so other SWAT and FBI agents—standing behind a row of big, black standard issue SUVs. The cars were corroding off an abandon warehouse. Their prey was trapped inside the building. For the past six months, Fringe division had been almost exclusively focused on the apprehension of about a dozen shapeshifters.

These were not the hybrid shapeshifters that William Bell and David Robert Jones had created, but a few left over from the original wave Walternate had sent over. Their mission directive should have disabled itself, but this handful had gone rogue. Abandoned by their creator, they had become shape-shifting terrorist without a clear objective.

They caused six of the last eight Fringe events. The numbers had slowly dwindled. Now only the three or four hold up in this warehouse were left. Now, they were cornered. Or hopefully cornered. The FBI was going in guns blazing to end them. The goal was termination.

Olivia was seven months pregnant and aware enough to know the gun battle was not where she belonged. She and Peter had been on their way home at the end of the day when the call came in. He was the expert; he should be there and they needed to act now. There wasn't time to drop Olivia off. She was going to hang back behind the barrier.

"The vest won't fit anymore," she said. She received jealous looks from other mothers in the birthing class, but she was clearly pregnant. Her rounded belly stuck out like a ball underneath her shirt.

"Very funny, Liv," said Peter.

"Alright, people, let's go!" barked Broyles.

The SWAT team went first. The FBI agents were gearing up.

"Be careful," she said to Peter as he pulled his gun from its holster.

"I will. Love you."

"I love you too."

She watched them rush across the open space between the line of SUVs and the building itself. It was getting dark.

She paced back and forth, fiddling with the clasp of her own holster. She could only wait. She knew she was pushing it by just being here. She was still working cases now that her morning sickness and migraines had stopped. She didn't really go out into the field without persuading Peter, Walter, Broyles, and Astrid usually. No surprises. That was the rule.

She just about had to force Peter to drive straight to the warehouse instead of thinking of somewhere to leave her. She had sworn up and down that she would wait where it was safe. And she planned to. But she couldn't deny that it was hard. She felt her purpose was to protect. Events in her life provided her with the skills. She wanted to be beside Peter making sure he stayed safe.

She paused and looked back at the building. Nothing had happened yet.

She wasn't alone. Six other FBI agents leaned against the SUVs with guns at the ready. She had promised Peter that she wouldn't even provide cover.

She wanted to be in there, but she had someone else to worry about now. Someone else to protect. As if her baby knew what her mother was thinking about, she kicked and did a somersault. Olivia rubbed her belly.

"You've got to be patient too," whispered Olivia. "He'll be back soon."

She started pacing again. It was cold, and it would be getting colder as it got darker. Still her peacoat was open in the front to ensure she had easy access to her weapon. She hoped for everyone involved that this raid would be over soon.

Gunshots rang out. Olivia snapped to attention. More shots and shouting. Her heart rate increased. All she could do was wait. She'd stopped pacing.

The sound of crashing glass reverberated above the gunshots. A figure burst from a small, peaked window at the very top of the warehouse. The shapeshifter fell the sixty feet and hit the ground with a crunch. It immediately started firing a shotgun at the line of SUVs. The agents began firing back.

Olivia did a strange thing. She had planned to provide cover, despite what she had told Peter. She didn't think she would be able to stand back. No matter what her intentions, she ducked. She didn't reach for her gun; she didn't take a position. She crouched down and pressed closer to the car.

The battle didn't last long. The shapeshifter—in the form of a woman—had no cover. She went down almost at once and stopped moving. The other agents moved forward to secure her.

Olivia straightened. She couldn't stay hunched over like that for very long. All the weapons had stopped firing. There were still shouting coming from in the warehouse, but the shots had stopped too. Still, she stayed where she was.

With a frown, she watched the agents dealing with the shapeshifter, her eyes flicking to the door to the warehouse every few seconds. She couldn't relax until she saw Peter walking through that door.

Two SWAT agents exited and took up positions around the dead or dying shapeshifter.

The baby was still kicking. "He'll be back soon," she repeated as much to herself as to her daughter. But where was he?

There was a radio in the car. She opened the driver side door and leaned across the seat for the receiver. The position was no longer easy. Her fingertips had just reached the console when something hard jammed against her back.

She knew what the object had to be. A few months ago, her reaction would have been entirely different. A few months ago, she probably would have fought back. A few months ago, she probably would have tried for her gun. A few months ago, she probably would have gone for the shot. Today, she froze.

"Get away from the radio and get your hands in the air," said the shapeshifter holding the gun.

She raised both hand up beside her head as she had done with Peter but with deadly seriousness.

"Turn around. Get on your knees," he said.

Again, she did exactly as she was told. It wasn't easy. She nearly fell forward as she lowered herself one knee at a time. The first slowly and the second hit the gravel hard to keep herself upright. She was terribly exposed.

The shapeshifter loomed above her. He looked like an older man. Give him a nice suit and a shave and he could've looked like an English gentleman or Santa Claus on the off-season. However, he'd been living in a warehouse for weeks. He was dirty. There was one bullet wound bleeding silver mercury in his shoulder and another in his hip. He wore a torn security guard uniform and carried a sawed off shotgun.

The shapeshifter looked her over and took in her pregnant belly and then the gun and badge attracted to her belt. He smiled nastily.

"The keys are in the ignition," said Olivia. "I won't stop you."

"And the big, bad FBI is going let us just drive away? I don't think so. You are coming with me. I need leverage."

He leaned closer to her, and she flinched. He laughed low. His hand hesitated around her middle, just longer enough for her to question what he was after. Then, he grabbed her gun from its holster and tossed it aside.

"I won't stop you," said Olivia again.

"Quiet," the shapeshifter said. "Let's go."

"I—I can't," she said.

His jaw clenched. "You do as I say and if I get out of here, maybe you will get out of here."

"I mean I can't stand up. I can't get up."

He growled. He lunged forward, grabbed her roughly by the elbow and pulled her up. He wasn't human, so it was easy. He yanked open the door and shoved her towards the backseat.

"Please," she said. "Let me go."

"I said quiet. Get in the car!"

"I'm not asking for me. Please." She braced herself with both hands around the doorframe. "Please. Peter! Someone! Help!"

She couldn't fight back. Any physical attack would put her baby as risk. She was scared. She wasn't scared for herself because she had been in these situations too many times to count; she was scared for her baby. She was trying to buy time. She needed Peter to come out of the warehouse. She needed one of the agents to look in exactly the right direction.

The shapeshifter wasn't in the mood. He flipped his gun so he was holding onto the barrel. He cracked her in the face. She was on the ground, and she tasted blood. A few months ago, this kind of warning would have been a fuel. The same fire didn't light now. She was just scared. Her mind raced. She couldn't see an out.

"My aim will be a little different next time," said the shapeshifter, towering above her.

He reached down. With a large hand, he grabbed her by throat and lifted her up. He pushed her against the car. Her back slammed against the back door. His grip wasn't tight; he wasn't trying to strangle her. He just held her pinned against the vehicle.

"Please," she gasped. "I'm worried about my baby. You can go."

He shook her slightly. "Well, you should have been in my way." He paused and then added, "In your condition."

"Please," said Olivia.

"Here's how it's going to go. You are going to drive. You are going to drive quickly and without stopping. When we are far enough away, I will use you as leverage to get some of my people back. It's your baby's only chance. Do you understand?"

She doubted that any of the other shapeshifters would survive. The orders had been shot anyone that wasn't an FBI agent. She didn't express this, however. It was her only chance. He wasn't planning to kill her; he needed her to drive. Perhaps, the injury to his right leg was worse than it looked.

"Yes, I understand," she said.

Every long minute meant Peter had a greater chance of finding her or of her seeing a way to escape. The shapeshifter was violent, and he was unprepared. She didn't know if that was better. It also made him desperate. He dug the gun into her belly with a firm pressure.

"I don't think you do understand. I won't kill you. I'll pull the trigger right here. Bam. You might die; you might not. It will."

"Please." She was begging. Every single part of her attention was directed on his face inches away from hers. His lip curled in something of a growl.

Someone shouted. The shapeshifter let her go. She fell to the ground again. Her knees hit the gravel. He raised his shotgun and fired. The agents on the other side of the car fired back.

Olivia hunched down, covering her head with one arm and her belly with the other as the bullets flew above her. There was a bang from behind her. The shapeshifter fell beside her. More mercury flowed from a hole in his forehead. He stared at her with empty eyes.

Someone else pulled her to her feet. It was Peter. She collapsed into his arms. She wasn't crying, but she couldn't seem to catch her breath.

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe," he said softly.

"Peter, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's over. You're safe."

She swallowed and looked up at him. Her breath still came in shaky little gasps, like a toddler.

"You're okay," he said again.

"I shouldn't have been here."

"Let's not worry about that now."

He led her away from the shapeshifter. She looked back at the body. He still stared unseeing at her. He directed her to the SUV at the end of line. He opened the door to the backseat and had her sit on the edge.

The chaos of the end of raid still swirled around them. The warehouse had been swept. Agents were removing the bodies and other evidence.

She took a few more steadying breathes as Peter bent down in front of her. He put a hand to her cheek. She winced.

"What did he do to you?" asked Peter.

"He hit me."

She folded her hands in her lap around her belly and stared down at them. She'd regained control, but now she felt guilty. It felt like a sign.

"Did he do anything else?" he asked.

"No, just scared me."

"Me too."

"The paramedics will be here in a minute. We're going to hospital."

"I'd rather Walter."

"Okay, Walter, but the paramedics first."

"No, I want to go to the lab. I want to get out of here."

Peter made a face that said 'c'mon.'

"I'm fine," she said, and even she didn't believe it.

"Babe, you're going to be all right."

"I need sugar," she said suddenly looking up.

"What?"

"I want orange juice or anything sweet. It always makes the baby kick. I need to feel her, Peter. I need to."

He covered her hands with one of his own. "It's okay, Liv."

"It's not."

"I'll see what I can find." He stood up and took a step away.

She gasped. His focused back to her. Olivia smiled and placed her hands on either side of her belly. "She moved."

"Good." He was far more relieved then the one simple word could convey.

The baby did a somersault just to make sure Olivia felt it. She nearly started crying. 'I'm sorry,' she thought.

"I still want to make sure she's okay," she said out loud. "I want to get out of here."

"Broyles is going to want a report, but I'll see what I can do. You'll be okay?"

She nodded. He wandered away. She rubbed her hand over her belly. The baby kicked back. It was the only thing that made her feel marginally better. She shouldn't have been there, and now she was desperate to get away as if the shapeshifters were going to suddenly jump up and start shooting again. She had been reckless to even think she could be anyway near a raid. Nowhere was safe. Would a good mother put her baby at risk? She took another shaky breath. The answer to that was obvious.

Peter returned with Broyles behind him. Peter was holding an ice pack. He handed it to her, and she brought it her cheek without commenting.

"Agent Dunham," Broyles said. "Everything alright?"

"Yes, sir. I want to go home," she said.

He looked her up and down. "Report by tomorrow," he said without asking for any more explanation. "Take care of her," he added to Peter. Say what you about Broyles' cold stare, he was a softy at heart.

"Not a problem," said Peter.

Broyles walked away.

"Can we leave?"

He didn't know why she was in such a rush. "Please, let the paramedics check you out."

"Walter can do it. I want to leave."

"Okay, I'll take you home and I'll have Astrid bring Walter to the house."

"Just take me to the lab."

"Okay, okay."

"Thank you."

She stood up, still holding the ice pack to her face. They made their way to back to their SUV and climbed in. Even as Peter pulled away and the warehouse receded, she still felt like something else was going to happen. She fought the need to check the back of the car for another hiding shapeshifter.

It was a long, quiet ride back to the campus. She was stuck inside her own head as she had been for the last seven months. The two sides of herself seemed at odds again. She wanted her baby safe, but the only way she knew how to do that was by being in the field. She had to face that and sooner than she had ever expected.

Peter parked the car. She got out and marched towards the building where the lab was. It was dark by now and the campus mostly deserted. It was dinnertime and most classes where over.

"What's up?" he asked when he caught up with her.

"I want to go home. I want to make sure my baby is okay."

"Is that really all?"

"What else would there be?" she said, more sharply than she intended.

He shrugged as he held opened the door to the main entrance. She frowned and kept walking.

She pushed her way into the lab and called out for Walter. He stuck his head out of his office, already in his bathrobe.

"Olivia, dear? I thought you left." He saw the ice pack in her hand and the bruise already forming on her cheek. "What happened?"

"We ended up at a raid. I got involved. I was wondering if you could take a look."

Walter looked confused.

"Broyles called," explained Peter as he entered the lab. "They found the shapeshifters hideout. We're the experts so he wanted us there. Olivia stayed back, but one of the shapeshifters cornered her. We think everything is okay, but would you check? Please."

"Of course," Walter said. He wrapped his robe tighter around him. "Olivia, have a seat on the table. Son, get the portable ultrasound."

They both followed his instructions. Walter bustled around gathering a few medical supplies.

"It's mostly my cheek," said Olivia. "I've felt the baby moving."

"A good sign," Walter said.

He pulled her hand with the ice pack away from her face and tilted her face so he could get a better look. He gently probed along the bone. She jerked away from his hand.

"Sorry, dear. It's not broken. Two butterfly stitches. Keep the ice on it. There will be a nasty bruise for a few days."

He applied the bandage.

"Thanks," said Olivia.

He nodded. Peter came over with the portable ultrasound. Walter took it from him and flipped open the screen. Olivia knew the drill by now. She lifted her shirt. Walter balanced the machine on his arm. He put the wand to her exposed and rounded belly. Peter rested his hand on her shoulder.

The ultrasound made a few gurgling noise before the heartbeat started thumping through the speakers. He flipped around the monitor, so Peter and Olivia could see. The baby's little silhouette was clear. She kicked and Olivia saw it on the screen and felt it inside her.

"The heartbeat is regular. She's active. I would say you don't have anything to worry about. Just pay attention. If anything changes, call the hospital."

He took the wand away from her skin. The sounds cut off. She wanted him to turn the machine back on. He smiled at her. She forced a smile back.

"Thank you, Walter," she said.

"You're sure?" asked Peter.

"Not one hundred percent. Never one hundred percent, but I am confident my granddaughter is fine, so is her mother."

"Let's go home then," Olivia said.

"Liv, what's the rush?" said Peter.

"I'm tired."

He backed off. "Okay."

"Can we borrow this?" Olivia asked, pointing to the ultrasound.

Walter agreed. They said good night for the second time and made their way back to the car again. It was another quiet ride back to the house.

Again, Olivia got out of the car as soon as Peter turned off the engine, still clutching the ultrasound machine.

"You hungry?" he asked, following her into the kitchen.

"Not really."

"I'll make pasta or something. Sound good?"

"Whatever."

She didn't wait for him to say anything else, but went directly upstairs to the bedroom. They were still living in the campus house. They'd finally found a new home, but it was in escrow and would need some work. If the sale officially, it would be almost two months before they would be ready to move.

She set the ultrasound down on the bed. She pulled off her suit jacket and tossed it onto a stack of boxes. With a fair amount of reaching, she got her shoes off. Then, she crept across the bed, curled against the pillows and the tears came. She hardly made a noise, but her whole body shook. She was afraid. She was a little kid scare of the dark, of what she didn't understand. Had her doubts been right? Had it all been confirmed even before the baby was even born? Could this possibly be meant to be if she had come so close to losing it already? Was a family something she was supposed to have?

"I'm sorry," she said out loud through her sobs. "I'm so sorry."

She didn't really know whom she was talking to. She spoke to the baby certainly, but to herself as well for letting her get her hopes up. And to Peter for letting him believe she could handle this.

Gradually, her crying slowed. She let the wet tears sit on her cheeks and listen to her own breathing. Finally, she reached for the device and turned it on. She rolled over on to her back, pulled up her shirt, and pressed the probe to her skin. She wasn't very skilled with it, which frustrated her even more. It should be easy. She felt like she was nothing but a stomach sometimes. She made a noise of exasperation and pushed the machine away. Tears burned in her eyes. Could she do anything right?

It wasn't much longer before Peter came looking for her.

He knocked on the open door. "Honey, are you all right?" he asked.

She glanced up over her shoulder and wiped the tears away, forgetting about the wound on her cheek. She winced again. Peter gave her a sad look, but it did reach his eyes, like he was trying not to laugh. He wasn't taking this seriously.

"If you say anything about hormones, I'm going to hit you," she said.

"You'd have to get out of bed fast enough to catch to me."

She grabbed the pillow next to her and chucked it at him. It hit the floor at his feet with a thud. She let out another frustrated grunt and flipped over so her back was to him again. Tears burned in her eyes.

"Babe, what's going on?" he said. He wasn't laughing anymore. He sat down on the bed.

"I'm just feeling inadequate," she said into her pillow. "And terrified."

He leaned over her. "Everything's fine now. I told you. I'm not going to lose you again. Either of you."

"This is about me."

"You did exactly the right thing."

"No, I gave up. I was going to let the shapeshifter go."

"You did what you had to do to protected her."

"What if you hadn't been there? Today could've turned out very different."

"But it didn't," he said firmly.

"But it could have. What if we had lost her?"

"Don't even think that. I know there is only so much I can say. I don't think you have anything to worry. It's hard on you now, but you just proved to me that you know what you're doing. Me, on the other hand, what do I know about being a dad? I had a good mom. She did her best, at least. But Walter? Oh man. Where do I start?"

She looked at him over her shoulder. Was Peter worried too? He'd spent so much time trying to make her okay, trying to convince her they could do this. She hadn't heard him say anything like this before. In a way, it was a relief. She wasn't the only one who was scared.

"What do you mean?" she said.

"Walter is Walter. He's the only father I know. I spent a lot years angry at for what he did to me. What if I handle things the way he did? He chose the worst option every single time."

She flipped over in his arms, so they were face to face. Her belly pressed against his torso.

"You won't repeat his mistakes. I know you're not going to experiment on our child. Be a better man than your father, right? You are going keep her safe and make her feel loved. The way to do for me."

He kissed her on the forehead. She curled closer.

"I'm sorry I have been such a mess," she said. "I don't mean to keep making this about me."

"You don't have to apologize. You have the hard job. You're the one with the big belly and everything. You're the one who has to worry about her every second of every day."

"Is any of that going to change after she's born?"

"Your belly won't be huge."

"Hey," she said, softly.

"I think you look amazing."

"Keep going."

"You're positively glowing."

"And?"

"And I've never seen a woman as gorgeous as the woman I'm holding right now."

"Better."

They were quiet for a while. She watched as Peter's eye begin to close. The next time she opened her own eyes the room was entirely dark. They had both fallen asleep.

She sighed heavily and looked around. She hated the feeling of waking up from a nap and not knowing exactly where she was. She had to look around for the digital clock. It had only been about twenty minutes.

She sat up and stretched. Although she could have very easily stayed curled up in Peter's arm forever, she was hungry. Gone were the days when she could skip a meal and not worry or having nothing but a bowl of cereal and whiskey.

She slid off the bed and felt her way to the bathroom. She flipped on the light. It spilled across the floor and the bed. Peter sighed in his sleep. Standing in front of the sink, Olivia tried not the gaze too closely at her reflection. Crumpled button-down shirt, hair falling out of its ponytail, puffy red eyes, and, of course, the vibrant black and blue mark across most of her cheek. It was quite a sight. Still, she tried to ignore it as she wet a wash cloth and pressed it against her face. She left the cloth in the sink and moved back into the bedroom.

She perched on the edge the bed. She gazed down at Peter. He looked like little kid when he was sleeping. She leaned down as best she could and kissed him on the cheek. She would let him sleep. She'd make enough pasta for him to reheat later if he wanted food.

As she stood back up, he stirred. After a couple of snuffling noises, he opened his eyes and yawned.

"Hey," he said.

"I was trying not to wake you."

"No, it's fine. I'll never to sleep later."

"Then, come have dinner with me."

He got up and stretched too. "Lead the way."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Comments = love.


	5. Homecoming

Part 5: Homecoming

The floorboards creaked slight as Olivia moved down the hallway and into the living room. Or rather the room that would be their living room. Right now the entire house was empty of furniture. The movers with the truck would be arriving in a little bit. The house had needed updating before they moved in, and this was the first time Peter had let her see the final product.

It turned out they both had a bit of a flare for decorating. It had been fun, and they had done it together, and it was a distraction. They had spent weeks picking out paint colors and granite countertops. The carpets upstairs had been removed, and a little half bath added to the finished basement. In addition to the new countertops, the kitchen had new appliances and a new breakfast nook to replace a walk-in pantry that was three times too big.

The house was old. The realtor said one of the oldest in the neighborhood. 'It had good bones,' he had said. It meant all the rooms had gorgeous crown molding, but the pipes probably clunked in the cold and the worn floorboards.

She liked that the floorboard creaked. It was the kind of sound you got used to and made you think of home. The floors in her Grandpa Eddie's house had complained. She and Rachel used to stand on a particularly loud spot and bounce up and down until they were told to quit making so much noise.

Her due date was three weeks away, so she wasn't surprised she didn't need to bounce on the floorboards to make them squeak. She rested a hand on her enormous belly. They were home. They just needed their furniture.

The only thing on the first floor was a large rug she stood on and the patio chairs the previous owners had left behind. Oh, and the cleaning supplies, paper plates and plastic utensils in the bag on the counter in the kitchen. It was going to be a long day.

She'd spend a lot of her life moving from place to place and never fully unpacking. It was different now. She wanted to unpack every box as soon as it entered the house. She knew that wasn't possible, but she was going to try. It was so close to the birth and she wanted to come back to a home.

The side door opened and Peter entered from the carport, carrying another grocery bag. "Do you like it?" he asked.

"Of course. It's perfect," she said.

He came closer and gave her a quick kiss. "Good. Have you been upstairs yet?"

"No, I was waiting for the grand tour."

He smiled. He was up to something.

"Well, ma'am, if you step this way, I will show you the second floor." He made a little bow as if he were a butler or a tour guide. "First, to the kitchen."

She followed him into the sunny kitchen at the back of the house. He deposited the bag on the counter with the others.

"The first thing we need is somewhere to sit down." Olivia said with a sigh. She looked longingly at the space where the table would go.

"Don't worry. There's a beach chair in the car. I'm setting you up on the front porch to direct traffic," he said.

"That's the right way to move in a new house."

"I'm kinda jealous."

"You can take the baby for the next three weeks, and I'll carry the boxes."

"On second thought, never mind."

She rolled her eyes and kneaded her back.

"C'mon, I want to show you upstairs," he said.

He led the way to the steps. The only changes upstairs had been the carpet, painting in all three bedrooms, and new light fixtures in the master bathroom. She'd seen the updating already. The last changes were made to the kitchen. What was Peter up to?

He went directly to the nursery and pushed open the door. She expected another empty room. This one painted a light green. Instead, the little room was filled with much more then the morning sunlight. The entire room was ready. They had picked out the room and all the furniture together, but she thought it was all sitting in boxes on the moving truck.

The coral sheets were already on the crib. He'd hung shelves and stacked a few books. Some of the toys were artful placed on the rocking chair or in the crib. A little onesie was laid out on the changing table. The entire room was ready. Everything she'd received from the baby shower she begrudgingly let Rachel organize was set out just waiting for the baby's arrival.

She felt tears in her eyes. It's something she's been doing a lot of lately. Everything effected her emotions. Anything on TV, children, dropping the last bite of food, the fruit Walter blew up in the lab, and a thousand other things set her off. They were happy tears.

She reached out, and he pulled her close.

"I know you were worried about moving so close to your due date, so I wanted to make sure at least one room was ready. I had them deliver the mattress early too. It's the only thing in our room, but we'll at least have a place to sleep if something goes wrong."

"Thank you."

"I wanted us to be home."

"Thank you," she repeated.

He held her for a while. They pressed their bodies close together. With her belly against his torso, he could feel the baby move sometimes.

His phone started buzzing in his pocket. "The movers are here."

She sighed and let go. "It's beautiful. It's exactly how I wanted it. Katherine is going to love it."

He laughed. "So, she's Katherine today."

They had three or four names they had agreed on, but they hadn't decided. Olivia tested them all.

She shrugged. "Today, she's Kate."

He smiled. "I have to go meet movers."

"I'm going to stay here for minute."

"Don't redecorate. I worked really hard."

"I bet you did."

He laughed. "Come down when you're ready and you can boss the burly men around."

He left and gently closed the door behind him. She heard him answer the phone. "No, no. You have to make a left onto Quincy Street. It's the fourth one on left with the front porch." His voice faded down the steps.

Olivia took another look around her. Peter really had done a good job. She moved over to the dresser. She pulled open one of the drawers. A few more outfits lay inside. They were so small. She ran a hand over the soft material.

She picked up another onesie. It was yellow with a little flower on the front. She carried it over to the rocking chair. She eased herself down and propped her feet on the creamed colored footrest. She laid the onesie across her belly. She rested her head against the back of the chair. It was quiet.

She knew it wouldn't last; it never lasted. The movers would start working, or her cell phone would ring or—very soon—the baby would start crying. Her life was rules by insane forces and the quiet moments were so hard to come by.

As if the baby knew what her mother was thinking, she kicked. Olivia rubbed the spot. The baby kicked again.

"Hey baby girl," she said out loud.

The baby was still moving.

"You're going to like your room. Your father did a really nice job. We're working really hard to get the house ready. Do me a favor, okay? You stay in there until its finished." She poked her belly. "Give me one kick for no, two kicks for yes."

The baby kicked again. She counted one, two, three.

"Hey, that's too many," she said with a smile.

She did feel ready or almost ready. The house needed to be ready first. Peter had been right. She had been worried about moving so close to her due date. With their luck, she was going to go into labor tonight or tomorrow. At least, the baby had a room. Olivia didn't care about much else.

That wasn't really true. She had a lot on her mind. The number of things that needed to happen between now and the birth seemed endless. The house was first, then the actual birth, then being a mother and all that entailed.

She heard car doors slamming downstairs and then voices. She let out her breath.

"One step at a time," she said.

She pulled herself out of the chair. She put the onesie back where she got it from. One more look around the room before going downstairs to meet the movers.

"There she is," said Peter. He introduced her to the movers, a group of mostly college boys in matching green t-shirts.

"So we'll be expecting you to help with the really big stuff," said the oldest of a group. A man named Teddy, who appeared to be in charge.

Olivia smiled at him and rubbed her belly. "Yeah, the really big heavy stuff."

"When are you due?"

"In three weeks."

"Well, we'll get you moved in today."

"We'd appreciate that," said Peter.

"Give us the tour and we'll get started," Teddy said.

Peter led the men through the house while Olivia went to the car to find the beach chair. She set it up on the porch in the sunshine. And she stayed there for most of the day as Peter and movers carried boxes and furniture inside.

By late afternoon, the truck was empty, and the movers left. Olivia stood in the middle of the living room again on the same squeaky spot. The house was full now with furniture and boxes.

Peter came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "Where do you want to start?"

She groaned.

"You've got to help now," he said.

She groaned again. "I thought was going to get away with it."

"No such luck."

"Want to tackle the kitchen?"

"Works for me."

He blasted music from his laptop, and they got to work, side by side. Peter unwrapped a dish and handed it to her. She placed it in the cabinet in line with the others. He passed her a wine glass.

"Whatcha thinking about?" he asked.

She shrugged. "A lot of things."

"Name one."

"Trying to figure out if couch is in the right place in the living room."

"Boring. Name something else."

She laughed. "I thinking about the years we're going to spend here."

A broad smile filled his face. "Me too."

"She's going to grow up here. I like the thought."

"Although, there's not enough room for the tribe of Bishops. We'll have to find another bigger house before babies three and four."

She laughed, but it was forced. She was not so sure about that. One child seemed barely within her powers. She knew she could handle wrangling more than one kid, but being pregnant scared her. Things had happened to her that couldn't be explained. She had no idea what that could do to a baby. And what was worse, those things didn't seem to ever stop. Sharing her body wasn't safe.

She was counting the days until her due date because she wouldn't have to worry about that anymore. The baby wouldn't be exposed in the same way. What if today was the day enough Cortexiphan had built up to do damaged?

"Hey, what's the matter?" Peter said as he passed her another glass.

She realized she was crying again. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. "Nothing."

He knew her better than that. He could tell these were not happy tears. He took the glass from her. "No, Olivia. What's wrong?"

"Just the usual. I'm being silly."

He kept looking at her. That answer was not good enough.

"I'm worried. I want her to be okay. I want her here. I can't keep my mind from running. Like I saw, I'm being silly."

He gave her a sad look. "It's not silly. I wish I knew how to help."

"There's only so many times you can say the same thing over and over again," she said with a sigh.

"Everything is going to be okay. We can do this," he intoned. "I'd say it a thousand more times if it helped."

"It's lost its meaning. The only thing that will help is holding her and bringing her home."

"I can't do anything about that right now, except make sure the house is ready. Is that enough?"

"More than enough."

They stopped talking for a while focused on unpacking the dishes and the rest of the kitchen. It helped to focus on a task, but it didn't entirely stop Olivia from feeling guilty. She felt like she was ruining the experience for Peter. He was so willing to be simply excited, but he spent so much time trying to cheer her up.

And he still was cheering her up. The song changed on the laptop. It was a jazz song. As she reached for the next dish, he took her hand instead. Slowly, delicately, he pulled her to the middle of the room. He put a hand on her waist and held out the other. He danced with her in the middle of their kitchen.

"What's this one?" asked Olivia. His music collection seemed endless. She couldn't keep up.

"Blue Moon by Django Reinhrdt. It's perfect for dancing."

She made a sound of agreement. The song might be good for dance, but her belly was in the way. He was holding her as close as he could and she was about a foot away. Suddenly, it made her laugh. He smiled back. It was what he was after.

"You'll dance with her, right?" asked Olivia.

"Of course." His voice was tender. "Honestly, I can't wait."

"My dad used to dance with me. My mother used to listen to music while she cooked, especially during Christmas. My dad and I were always dancing around her in the kitchen."

"I solemnly swear I will dance with our daughter at Christmas and any other time she wanted."

He spun her slowly.

"Good. I'm going to hold you to that promise," she said as he pulled her in again.

"You better."

They revolved together. She turned sort of sideways so she could rest her head against his chest. The song ended. She looked up at him. He kissed her on the forehead. She didn't need to thank him.

"How many more boxes?" she asked.

"In the kitchen or the whole house?"

She moaned. "Just in the kitchen. I don't want to think about the rest of the house."

"The big one with the pots and pans."

"Those go in the lazy Susan, but are going to have to do it because I cannot bend down anymore."

"Excuses. Excuses," he said.

She dropped into one of the chairs surrounding the table that had only been placed in the breakfast nook a few hours before. The baby was active again. Olivia decided she had liked the dancing.

There was no point in trying to talk over the banging of the pots as he stuffed them into the cabinet. When he finished, Peter straightened.

"Next room?" he asked.

"Bedroom?"

He nodded. She hauled herself to her feet once again. The bedroom took more work than the kitchen. The furniture had to be rearranged, which meant Olivia stood there and gave orders. Once everything was in place, and Peter tugged the new mattress onto the frame, the rest of the work went quickly.

It was strange seeing her things in this new space along side Peter's. Almost all the furniture that wasn't new had come from her old apartment. The stuff in the house where they had been living technically belonged to Walter. He had insisted they take whatever they wanted, but it hadn't felt right. Both she and Peter secretly hoped he would be able to move into the house himself.

Unpacking her clothes amounted to putting them back into the drawers where they'd come from. He carefully hung the clothes the rest in their closet. Then, together, they put the sheets on the bed. The walls where bare and the windows only had shades, but it was their room. Three rooms down, the rest of the house to go.

They started on the family room next. It was a bonus room off the kitchen. The movers had done most of the work. The woven rug was already spread out. The new, over-stuffed couch already in place, forming an L in the center of the room. The large entertainment center with the new TV had also been lugged into place. The built-ins on either side where empty.

"Neither us of have many knickknacks, but we have books," said Peter as he hefted two boxes from the front room.

She trailed behind him, pushing another box with her foot. "We have books and picture of Ella and Eddie."

He opened the first box and started stacking them on shelves. She flopped on the sofa and rested her feet on the coffee table that was sideways without trying to help him. He didn't complain.

"We should start thinking about dinner," Olivia said after a while.

"Damiano's doesn't deliver this far away."

"I know. It's a tragedy."

He opened his mouth to offer a suggestion when he was interrupted by a knock.

They both looked towards the front door.

"Neighbors welcoming us already?" said Peter.

"If we've moved to one of those neighborhood, we're leaving right now," she said and got heavily to her feet.

Still carrying a handful of books, he reached the door first and opened it. Walter stood on the porch.

"My books!" said Walter, completely distracted.

Both Olivia and Peter looked down at the small stack. They were a few of the books that had belonged to Walter's father.

"You said we could take them," said Peter.

"Did I?" Walter said, frowning.

"Yes, what are you doing here?"

"Agent Farnsworth dropped me off on her way home. I brought you dinner." He held up a brown paper bag. "I thought you might not have any food in the house. If I'm honest, it was Astro's idea."

Olivia looked over Walter's shoulder. Astrid was sitting in her car at the end of the driveway. Olivia waved. Astrid waved back and pulled away.

"I invited her in," continued Walter. "But she said she would wait until you were settled. I will take a taxicab back to the lab. I have the phone number here." He fished a slip of paper from the bag. "I hope this is okay. Astro said I should call, but I wanted to surprise you."

Peter held up his free hand to stop Walter's babbling. "It's fine. We're happy to have you. We were just trying to figure out what to do for dinner."

He stepped into the house. "Hello, Olivia, dear."

"Hi," she said. "Welcome. It's still a bit of mess."

"No, it's lovely," said Walter, having only seen the empty entrance.

"This way," said Peter and motioned for Walter to follow him to the kitchen.

Walter unloaded the groceries onto the island. He removed uncooked pasta, a Tupperware container filled with red sauce and another filled with cooked chicken.

"I also brought eggs and bread and peanut butter and jelly. For tomorrow," he said.

"Thank you," said Olivia. "What should I do?"

"You, dear, should sit down," said Walter firmly.

"I can help," she insisted.

"It's mostly done. Peter can cook the pasta. I merely need to reheat the chicken and sauce."

"You've been busy," said Peter as he pulled out one of pots he had put away earlier.

"When you two are off, I am off. So I made the sauce," Walter said.

Walter got right to work. Olivia lowered herself into one of the chairs around the table. The happy family cooking dinner moved around the kitchen. This is what she wanted for the house. For her life. She hugged her arms across her belly.

Once the pasta was cooking, Peter joined her at the table. He swung his chair around closer to hers and lifted her legs so her feet rested on his lap.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked her again.

She told him. His smile softened.

"We've been through a lot. We deserves this," he said.

She nodded.

"Where are the plates?" said Walter, chapping his hands together.

Peter got up again and helped his father. Then, both men sat around the table with heaping plates of pasta, chicken, and homemade tomato sauce.

Peter recounted the work they had done to the house while Olivia listened. She was happy to just be. The food was perfect, but she didn't eat much. The baby was moving again and pressed up against her stomach.

"Don't you like, Olivia?" asked Walter when he noticed.

"It's wonderful," she said. "The baby doesn't leave much room."

Walter's eye narrated. "I find it very strange."

"What?" asked Peter.

"That the humans—or really any mammal—can move before birth. The baby is conscious," Walter said.

She laughed. "Of all the things we've seen, that's what you find strange."

Peter rolled his eyes too.

"But really what is it like?" Walter said.

Olivia considered for a moment. "I feel like I know her a little. She's very awake right now. She's always awake when I eat, but she'll quiet down in about half an hour. She likes it when Peter reads out loud or when I do yoga. It's a connection. She's running out of room and it feels like she's trying to push her way out. I liked it better a few months ago when she wasn't so big."

"Fascinating," said Walter. Peter listened intently as well.

"Boys," she said. "It's nothing special. Every woman who has been pregnant before me has felt the same thing."

Peter got up and gathered a few of the plates. "It's special because she's ours," he said and kissed her on the cheek.

She smiled. "That is true."

Walter helped with the dishes, and then Peter called him the cab. They waited in the entrance hall for the car.

"Are you sure I can't stay and help with the unpacking? I brought my label maker just in case," said Walter.

"No, we're all right. Dinner was a huge help," said Olivia.

A horn sounded outside. "That's the cab," said Peter. "I'll go talk to the drive. Give him the directions." He went outside.

Walter and Olivia stood in the open door. She was just inside; he was just on the other side of the threshold.

"He's happy," said Walter. "Are you, dear?"

Olivia looked at him with her sharp eyes; he stared back equally as aware. "Yes, I'm happy. He wants this so badly, so I do. I won't lie and say I'm not nervous about what's coming." She rubbed her belly again. "But we have each other and we have you and Nina and Rachel."

"Family," said Walter.

She nodded. "Family. It's what Peter and I have both spent most of our lives looking for."

"Everything thing will change when you see her."

"I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about what happens next."

"It'll all work out." He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Good night, Olive."

"Good night," she hesitated, "Dad."

He grinned.

"C'mon, Walter," called Peter.

Walter crossed the porch and embraced Peter before getting into the cab.

Peter came back into the house. He closed the door. "He was very…" he trailed off, trying to think of the word.

"Lucid," finished Olivia.

"Yeah, lucid."

"You never know with Walter."

"You never do. You ready for bed?"

"Absolutely not," said Olivia. "The baby is still awake and we have more unpacking to do. I want this house finished."

"Do you know what I think you are doing?" Peter said in mock surprise.

She was confused. "What?"

"You're nesting."

"I am not!" she said, laughing.

"Agent Dunham, you are nesting."

"Okay, fine. Maybe I am."

"And she admits it!"

She rolled her eyes. "You can laughing as long as you keep putting the books on the shelves."

She pulled on his arm in the direction of the family room.

"Okay, I'm coming."

He followed her into the family room, and they both dug into the boxes of books. They had been working for a few minutes when he interrupted.

"Hey Liv," he said.

"Yeah?" She reached up and placed a stack of books on the top shelf.

"Welcome home," Peter said.

"You too," she answered without stopping, but there was emotion behind her voice.

He smiled and pulled another handful of books from the box at his feet.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you think. Next chapter is going to be exciting! Stay tuned.


	6. Birthday

Part 6: Birthday

Olivia hung up the phone again. Her forearms rested on the back of an armchair in the family room. She leaned over and breathed out. The pain tightened around her. She moaned quietly. She wanted to just stay right where she was, gripping her cell phone and waiting for Peter to call her back. She couldn't deny it any longer. She was in labor.

Her due date had been yesterday. They had known that any minute she could go into labor and Peter had been hovering. He'd been wonderful. He delivered everything she needed on a silver platter. He anticipated her every wish and planned distractions like a walk in the park or a trip to Walter's lab. And it pissed her off.

So when he left to go run errands, she had stayed home and moodily told her to take his time. She was regretting that now. Why was his phone off? She should've tried to get a hold of him earlier.

She'd been in denial about the pain. She'd known it had been contractions. She'd had them a couple of days ago. And a few days before that. They'd gone to park and walked for a couple of hours. The movement had helped, but nothing had progressed. Today, things had progressed.

She was over being pregnant. Everything felt big and swollen and uncomfortable. She hardly slept because of the baby's kicking and her inability to find a position. She had to pee all the time. Still, she didn't want to go through with the next step, not without Peter.

Could she wait for him to get back? It wasn't like she could drive herself. Even if her wasn't over taken by the grip of pain even ten minutes, she hadn't been able to fit behind a steering wheel in a few weeks. The situation wasn't desperate yet, but it was heading in that direction. The contractions were regular now. Her analytical mind couldn't deny _that_ any longer. It wasn't random; there was a pattern. Still, she stood in the family room unwilling to decide what to do. They had a plan, a very detailed one and several backups. All of them included Peter.

She lifted the cell phone again. Decision time. She needed a new plan. She called a different number.

"Hello," came Walter's voice after the phone rang a few times. "This is Dr. Walter Bishop's lab. You are speaking to Dr. Walter Bishop. How can I help you?"

"Hi, Walter. It's Olivia. Can I speak to Astrid?" she said.

"Of course, dear." He then yelled, "Agent Farnsworth! Telephone!"

She held her phone away from her ear for a moment. There was a shuffling noise as the phone was passed off.

"Hello?" said Astrid.

"It's Olivia. I need a favor."

"Sure, what's up?"

"I need a ride. I can't get a hold of Peter, and you're closer than Nina. It's important."

"Of course. Is everything okay?"

"Sort of. I'm in labor."

"Oh God, I'll be there in ten minutes. You hang tight."

"Thanks."

"I'm leaving now."

"Okay."

The phone clicked again. She called Peter again. No one answered and she didn't leave another message.

"This is not the time to have your phone off," she said out loud although she was alone in the house.

Where was he? She hoped he hadn't been in an accident or something. She needed him. She needed him to be okay, but she also recognized there was nothing she could do about it. She had to do what she had to do, like always. If her baby needed her to focus and do this on her own, she would.

She moved gingerly as if she was afraid she might break. Upstairs in her bedroom, she retrieved the overnight bag from the closet. The bag had been packed and ready to go for two weeks. She carried it back downstairs and set it down on one of the lower steps. Slowly, carefully, she lowered herself to sit on another step and waited for Astrid. She had called Peter's phone a few more times when Astrid's silver car pulled into the driveway.

She leaped out and bounced across the porch before Olivia had even stood up.

"Olivia?" Astrid called as she pushed open the front door.

"Hi," answered Olivia. She couldn't say anything else as another contraction rolled over her. As it faded, she gave Astrid a half smile.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, but I'd like to go."

"I can imagine. Let me help." Astrid held out a hand.

Olivia took it and she let Astrid lead her to the car. She squeezed into the passenger seat as Astrid dashed back to the house for the bag and to lock the door.

"Any particular route you want me to take?" asked Astrid when she got back in the car. "In the movies, they always have the directions mapped out based on traffic patterns and the time of day."

"Whatever you think is best," said Olivia.

Astrid nodded and pulled out of the driveway.

Olivia still held tightly to her cell phone. She resisted the urge to dial Peter first and called Nina.

Nina picked up after half a ring. "Olive?"

"Hi," said Olivia.

"Sweetheart, hang on."

Olivia heard her faintly speak to whomever she was with. "No, it'll wait. It's my daughter. Her due date was yesterday. It's probably important." She focused shifted back to Olivia. "What is it, Olive? Is it time?"

"Yes, it's time."

Nina laughed. "Wonderful. Are you all right? Do you need anything?"

"Yes," she said. "I need Peter."

"What?"

"I can't get in touch with him. I was home alone."

"What do you mean you can't get in touch with Peter? Where is he?"

"I don't know. He was running errand, but he left hours ago. He's not picking up his phone. It's going straight to voicemail. I'm getting worried."

"Okay, Olive. It's going to be okay, but I'm on the other side of the city. It'll take me an hour to get to you."

"Astrid picked me up. We're going to the hospital now."

"Good. I'll leave now as well."

"Okay. I'll see you soon."

"It's going to be okay, Olive."

"I know. Bye."

"Goodbye, sweetheart."

Olivia was aware of that Astrid had been listening to the conversation. She didn't say anything. They drove in silence. Olivia had two more contractions before they pulled into the half-circle driveway in front of the hospital. Each time Astrid cast worried looks in Olivia's direction as if she was going to give birth right there in the car. Olivia wanted to crack some joke about it, but she couldn't quite make herself do it. She had other things on her mind.

When the car stopped in front of the small, private hospital, Astrid leaped out against and raced over to Olivia's side. She opened the door and held out a hand to help Olivia. They had to wait for another contraction to pass.

They went inside through the wide automatic sliding doors. "We're having a baby today, aren't we?" said the nurse behind the front desk in cheery voice that annoyed Olivia.

'We're not having baby,' she wanted to snap. 'I'm having a baby and the one person who might be able to make it a little bit easier isn't here,' but just nodded.

"Okay then, let's start with your name and we'll get you settled."

Half an hour later, Olivia was alone again. She sat in her hospital bed in the middle of her room. The hospital was owned by a subsidiary of Massive Dynamic. She had the best room with the best doctors and nurses. She'd just been thoroughly examined and hooked up to IVs and monitors. She watched the monitor for the baby's heart rate go up and down, up and down.

She only looked away from the monitor to stare down at her phone, which she still clutched. She had refused to let go of her phone during the exam. She pressed Peter's name on the last of recent calls. It went straight to voicemail. She was not surprised, but almost crushingly disappointed. She could only leave another message.

"Hi, it's me again. I'm at to the hospital. Astrid gave me a ride. Please, come as soon as you get this. I'm getting worried, Peter. I can't do this alone."

She ended the call and let the phone drop onto the bed. She was a very independent person. Asking for help, needing someone, it was never something she was particularly comfortable with. It didn't mean that's the way she wanted it to be. She had allowed Peter into her life and then into her heart. He had been with her every step of her pregnancy. He had been there, reminding her over and over again that they could do this. They. It wasn't an option. She placed her hands on either side of her belly. She would do what she had to do for her baby. Another contraction built and ebbed. She closed her eyes and breathed through it.

The sliding door to her room opened and the curtain pushed aside. Astrid came back into the room. She disappeared under the pretenses of moving the car and also to give Olivia privacy for the exam.

"Hi, Olivia," she said. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," said Olivia and motioned to the chair beside the bed. "You don't have to stay, though."

"I have no where else to be and I'm not about to leave you by yourself."

"Thank you."

Astrid reached over and covered Olivia's hand with her own and smiled. She let go as quickly as she reached out. They'd worked together long enough—been friends long enough—that Astrid understood Olivia's independence.

"Do you need anything?" asked Astrid.

"A distraction," said Olivia with a smile.

Astrid found the TV remote. "Will this do?"

Olivia nodded. Astrid turned on the television and started flipping channels.

"This is a treat," said Astrid. "I never get to watch daytime TV."

"What's Walter doing without you there to supervise?"

"Probably trying to convince Agent Diaz to drive him here."

"Oh God," she said. Olivia didn't need to explain why having Walter Bishop at the hospital for the birth would not be desirable.

Astrid chatted without really saying much. Her talking was as much as an attempt to distract Olivia as the television. The nurses popped in a few times, then finally the door slid open and Nina swept in.

She moved directly to the Olivia's side and planted a kiss on top of her head.

"Hello, Nina," Olivia said.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Have you heard anything from Peter?"

"Not yet."

"He'll be here soon."

Olivia didn't say anything.

Astrid got up from her chair. "You're in good hands. I'm going to give you some privacy."

"Thank you, Astrid. I don't know what I would've done without you. It's true almost all the time and I don't say it enough," said Olivia.

"Good luck, Olivia. Keep me up to date."

"We will," said Nina.

"Bye."

Another construction washed over her. Nina settled in the now empty chair and took Olivia's hand.

"Peter is fine," said Nina as her own way of a distracting Olivia. "He's out of cell range. He'll call any minute and say he's rushing to your side."

"I hope so," Olivia said after a pause and waning of the pain.

Nina squeezed her hand. "Do you want anything? A book? Or..." She trailed off.

Olivia wanted to say 'just Peter' but instead she shook her head. Though, Nina caught her eyeing her cell phone, still sitting on the bed on top of the blanket.

It was waiting game at this point, Olivia knew. Waiting for Peter to call or appear. Waiting for her cervix to dilate. Just waiting.

The phone began loudly buzzing. It made both of the women jump. Olivia scrambled for the phone. The called ID said exactly what she was hoping for.

"Peter," she said in the phone.

"God, Olivia, I'm so sorry," he said. His breath was ragged, like he was running.

"Where are you?"

"I'm in the city. I was picking something up. I didn't realize there wasn't any reception. I'm so sorry. I'm coming as fast as I can. I'm at the car now." She heard the door slam and the engine start. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Nina's here with me. We have a couple of hours. Don't be one of those dads who get into an accident on the way to hospital. Okay?"

He sighed heavily. "Okay. I'm so sorry."

"I'm fine really. I'm going to hang up now so you can focus on driving."

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too. Bye."

"Bye."

She hung up. "He's on his way," she said to Nina.

"I told you. Where was he?"

"Somewhere in the city. I'm not really sure and I don't really care."

Less than an hour later, Peter came bursting into the room. The nurse had just finished examining Olivia again.

"Hello, Dad," said the nurse. "I'm glad you could make it."

"I am so sorry!" Peter blurted out.

"It's all right, Dad. We were doing fine without you. I'm Nurse Kelly and I'm going to be here all day. You come sit her by Mom."

Nina vacated the chair beside the bed and Peter collapsed into it, still out of breath. Olivia relaxed for the first time since she felt the first contraction. She didn't say anything, just held out her hand. He laced his fingers in between hers.

"Olivia, I'm so sorry. I completely lost track of time and I was in the back and there wasn't any reception. I didn't realize. I panicked when I went outside and my phone went crazy. I ran all the way to the car. I can't believe I was so stupid."

"It's fine. You're here now."

"I am." He reached over and kissed her on the cheek. She leaned into the touch.

"You're here now," she said again. Her grip tightened as another contraction bore down.

"I'm here. Just breath," he said.

She groaned and hunched forward, resting a hand on her outstretched knee. He reached over and started massaging the small of her back with his free hand. Just his touch was enough to distract her a little bit. She let out her breath slowly and looked up at him.

"Does it help?" he asked, referring to the massage. It was a technique they'd been told about in the birthing class.

"Yes, a little."

"She's a little more than half way there," said the nurse as she finished washing her hands at the sink. "It could be a few more hours, though."

Olivia groaned again, but this time out of frustration.

"Don't complain too much," the nurse said with a smile. "You're moving along nicely, especially for your first. I'll be back in a little bit. Just press the call button if you need anything."

Now that Peter was beside her, Olivia was less concerned with anything beyond her own body. Time passed in a blur. There was the pain, of course. There was Peter doing everything he could to ease it. There was Nina bouncing in and out of the room, making phone calls to Walter and to Rachel, getting ice chips for Olivia, and then coffee for herself and Peter. There was the building pressure in her lower half. There was the primal urge to push.

Mostly, there was the pain. Wave after wave that tightened and held onto her body. They built steadily as the hours passed. She did her best to ride those waves. She trusted her body. She had spent all these months—years really, long before she got pregnant—afraid of her body. It had been the enemy; it had been another thing her child had to survive. It had not been the safe haven most women believe their wombs were. Now, it was that same body that was going to being her child into the world. Her body knew what to do, and she had to trust it.

After the waves were so strong, Olivia felt like they might break her wrecked body, the doctor appeared, saying, "Alright, it's time to push."

She was so spent that emotions didn't really seem to register. This was the final stage. The absolute last step in her pregnancy. She'd made it through the first months and the morning sickness, then feeling better and just growing bigger and bigger. She'd made it to her due date without anything going horribly wrong. She had just one more thing to do, and her baby was enter the world. Wonder, and astonishment, and amazement, and a fear stirred in her chest, but they felt more like flutters than actual feelings.

She could only focus on the physical. She could understand the bed beneath her, Peter's shoulder supporting her weight, the doctor down where she didn't let anyone, but Peter anymore, and the pain.

"One big one."

She bore down.

"Okay, relax. Remember to breath."

She remembered to breath.

"Another big one."

She bore down again.

"Good job. Relax."

She relaxed.

"Give me another big one."

She bore down again.

"Okay, take it easy. That's the head. I want a few more pushes, but gentle."

She did as the doctor instructed. Peter stayed beside her, and repeating, "You're doing great. She's almost here."

Then, she was. The cries filled the room. It was over. Olivia had done it.

"It's a girl," announced the doctor. "Dad, would you like to cut the core?"

"Is she okay? Is she healthy?" asked Olivia desperately. She could hear the shaky, surprised squawks of her daughter, but she couldn't see her. No one answered her questions. The knot she'd had in her chest for nine months hadn't loosened yet. "Is she healthy?" she repeated, and as she said the words, Peter glimmered. It just for a heartbeat, but she saw it. Fear in its most basic sense. The child-like panic that everything isn't the way it is supposed to be.

"She looks like one healthy, baby girl," said the doctor.

The tiny, crying child was placed on her chest, and Olivia cried. Peter kissed the tears away. The baby was pink, and a little smooched, and the most incredible thing Olivia had ever seen. The nurse finished toweling her off daughter and wrapped her in a blanket. The baby clung to Olivia's chest, and Olivia kept her arm around the new little life.

"She's beautiful," Olivia said.

Peter, his own eyes shinning, nodded. "So is her mother. You were amazing."

Olivia could only stare down at the little, squirming, brand new baby. She was in love. One hundred percent, over the moon, dance around the room, sing to the skies in love. She'd done it. They'd both made it through.

"Does she have a name?" asked Nurse Kelly.

Olivia had to force herself to look away from her daughter and up at Peter.

"What do you think?" he said.

She considered their short list. The names were pretty, but they were nothing special, except for on. Katherine. Lily. Anna. Classic names. Her baby deserved something all her own; she was extraordinary because she was theirs. Only one name seemed to fit.

"Etta," said Olivia.

Peter nodded. "Agreed." He turned to the nurse. "Henrietta Dunham Bishop."

He leaned down and kissed Olivia again. She drank in the taste of his lips.

"I love you," she said when they broke apart.

"I love you," he repeated.

Nurse Kelly stepped forward. "We're not quite finished yet. We need give baby Henrietta a quick check and you too, Mom. We'll bring her right back."

Olivia placed a kiss on Etta's forehead and reluctantly let the nurse take her child from her arms. The baby began to cry again with powerful, little lungs making her presence known.

"Go with her," she said to Peter.

He nodded and moved away, trailing behind the nurse, who only moved to the other side of the room. Another nurse and the doctor worked on her, and then the doctor went to check on the baby. His back was to Olivia, blocking her view. They called out the weight and measurements.

Her daughter looked healthy, he had said. She needed him to make sure. She would have Walter examine her baby when he got here and probably have Nina's technicians look over the blood tests and the hospitals results.

The doctor scribbled on the chat and passed it back the nurse. "Perfectly healthy," he said. "Congratulations." He left to care for the next patient.

Olivia's view of the baby warmer was clear. The nurse swaddled Etta and handed her gingerly to Peter. "Here you go, Dad."

"Thank you," he answered, his voice hoarse.

He came back to Olivia's bedside. The baby was so small and looked even smaller tucked in her strong arms.

"Here you go, little one. Back to Mommy," he said.

Olivia reached out as if she had never wanted anything as much in her lift. The weight, however slight, was alien, but she was grateful. A healthy baby girl. She had spent so much time anxious about the moment of the birth that now she passed it, she didn't really know what to do.

Peter stood above them. He was fiddling with something in his pocket. He sat down on the edge of the bed, getting as close as he could.

"I want to give you a better explanation as to where I was," he said. "I wasn't running errands. I went to get one thing, but it took a lot longer that I was expecting to pick it out." He pulled whatever it was out of his pocket, but kept it covered. "Liv, you once told me that we belonged together. It took us a while to get it right, but I have never believed something so strongly in my life. I want to make it official. There is nothing in this world or the other side or another timeline that I wouldn't do for you or for our daughter. I love you both so much."

He was stalling, fumbling over his words a bit. Olivia smiled softly. She already guessed what he was trying to get at. "Just ask me," she said.

He took a deep breath. "Would you marry me, Olivia?" He uncovered a little, black velvet box and opened it. A simple, diamond ring in a silver setting glinted back at her.

Tears filled her eyes again. It really wasn't fair, him doing this now. Her emotions were already so overwhelmed. The happiness swelled and threatened to bust out of her chest.

She nodded fiercely. "I will."

He took the ring out of its box and carefully slid it onto her finger, making sure she still supported Etta with most of her arm. He leaned over and kissed her again. He pressed his forehead against hers.

"I love you, Agent Dunham."

"I love you, too, Peter Bishop, man from the other side."

Two of the nurses clapped and cheered. Olivia and Peter looked over at them and laughed. They kissed again, completely unconcerned with the other people in the room.

"Would you get Nina?" she asked him after a while, though she hated the idea of him leaving her side.

"Sure. Hang on."

He stepped away and found Nina waiting just outside. She had quietly slipped out when the doctor came in.

"Let me see her!" she said. She stopped about a foot away from the bed and took in the sight of Olivia, tired and happy, and holding her new baby.

"Look at you," Nina said. "Look at her." She moved closer and sat in the chair. "Oh Olive, she is beautiful."

Nina reached out and touched the baby's cheek. Nina started crying, and Olivia started crying again. Peter returned to the bed. He shook his head at the women, but smiling broadly.

"What's her name?"

"Henrietta," said Peter. "Or Etta."

"Beautiful," Nina said.

"Do you want to hold her?" asked Olivia.

"Oh yes, I want nothing else," said Nina. Olivia passed over the little bundle. Nina cooed. "I may never give her back. Rachel had to just about wrestle Ella away from me, and Eddie was such a chubby bruiser, I just wanted to kiss his cheeks all day."

"We only just got her," teased Peter.

"Okay, okay, baby Etta, back to your mother."

She passed the baby back, and as she did so, Nina caught sight the diamond. If it was possible, her smile got even bigger.

"What's that?" she asked.

"She said yes," announced Peter.

"You knew?" said Olivia, genuinely surprised.

"I didn't know specifically. I knew he was planning to."

"I needed at least one ally," he said.

"You're sneaky. Both of you," said Olivia, too happy to even be upset with them for a second.

There was no need to say anything else. All three of them were content to just watch Etta try and keep her eyes open against the bright lights.

"I don't wish to break this up," said Nurse Kelly, coming closer and speaking to Olivia. "Would you like to take a shower? The Breast-Feeding Coordinator will be here soon. Most new mothers say the first shower is glorious."

The nurse was right. Even though she had literally given birth a few hours earlier and was still sore and unsteady, her ability to move was greatly improved. Her belly was still swollen, but she didn't feel the need to squeeze into the shower shall. She was also alone, truly alone for the first time in months. It seemed a foreign concept. It wasn't a long shower. She barely had enough time to rise off and wash her hair. Nurse Kelly didn't want her on her feet for long.

Once she was back in bed, they brought her something to eat. The Breast-Feeding Coordinator came and helped her feet Etta for the first time. Then, Etta fell asleep for the first time. Not long after that Olivia fell asleep too. It had been a big day.

Olivia woke a few hours later. She shifted against her pillows so she could see the little basinet where Etta had been sleeping. They had opted not to send her to the nursery, choosing to keep her close.

Instead of finding the outline of the little bundle that was Etta, she saw Peter standing in the window with the baby in his arms. He was bouncing her gently. She was making soft gurgling sounds as if she was trying to decided whether to cry or not.

Olivia didn't say anything or even move. She just watched her family. Months and months of worrying, of being careful, of hoping what had happened to her would not effect her child had all been over nothing. And she was so relieved.

She had done it for him. She had done it so that he could stand at a window at dawn and rocking his baby girl to sleep.

A long time ago, she had learned that her desires had no effect on her life. Being a mother had never seemed like it was going to happen…until it did. She had doubts, concerns that went beyond anything a normal first time parent would experience. He had wanted it so badly and he had seemed so sure, so she trusted him. And Etta was healthy. Being a mother was already turning out better than she had expected.

"Bring her here," Olivia said.

"Hey, you should be sleeping," Peter whispered back.

"I did for a while. I think I'm used to waking up because of her kicking or to pee. It's going to be to feed her now, I guess."

"Gone are the days of sleeping in."

"Did we ever have days when we could see in?"

"Not since joining Fringe division."

"So nothing has really changed?"

He moved closer. Olivia rested on her side with one arm under the pillow and the other on her hip. He tucked Etta into the space on the bed. She curled protectively around her baby, moving her arm over Etta.

"Everything has changed," he said.

She smiled and kissed Etta on the forehead.

"You better try and get some more sleep. She'll be really awake soon."

She nodded. He scooped Etta up again and returned her to the bassinet. He wheeled it a little bit closer to the bed. He then moved around to the far side of the bed. She rolled over and held out an arm to him. Even though he had an uncomfortable bed made up of reclining chair, Olivia pulled him close. He slipped onto the hospital bed behind her. She closed her eyes again before he was settled.

What Peter had said was true. Everything had changed, but it felt right. The next few days, few weeks would be scary and filled with a million firsts. It would get be easier. And she wasn't alone; she had her family.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! This was originally supposed to be the last chapter, but Dunham-Bishops seem to have other plans. Stay turn for two or three more parts!


	7. Anniversary

Part 7: Anniversary

Olivia tried to ignore the fussing baby as Rachel pinned her hair into place. Etta was four months old and still healthy and perfect. She had big blue eyes like her dad and a little tuft of blonde, almost white hair. She was a smiley, cheerful baby who almost always slept through the night. She was a chatterbox, always calling out for attention. Mostly it was cooing and gargling, but right now she was being a little more demanding.

The girls were in a large dressing room on the top floor of the wedding venue. The room was ornately decorated with large floral wallpaper, over stuffed chairs, gold mirrors. It could hold more than ten women all getting dressed and doing their hair. Right now, it was just Olivia, Rachel, Ella, and of course, Etta.

The venue was usually used for much larger weddings. For the Dunham-Bishop nuptials, they were not using the main room. They had reserved a small private section of the garden for both the wedding and the reception. Only a handful of people were coming, just their family and less than a dozen friends. She didn't need anything else.

Rachel seemed to know what Olivia was thinking. "Hold still," said Rachel.

"Let me just pick her up. She'll quiet down," Olivia said.

"She'll quiet down if you just let her quiet down. You just fed her. She's fine."

"I'll do it," said Ella and slid out of her chair. She wore a lavender dress and had a flower pinned in her hair.

"Just rock her carrier and give her a toy out of the diaper bag," instructed Rachel.

"Yes, Mom," said Ella.

Olivia sighed. She was not used to being told what to do by her little sister.

"I'm almost finished," said Rachel.

Olivia squirmed, but didn't say anything else. She watched her sister working in the reflection of the mirror. Olivia could braid and that was as far as her skill with a hairbrush went. Rachel learned how to do all sorts of hairstyles and makeup. When they were kids, Rachel was always trying to give Olivia makeovers. Olivia always said no, but for her wedding day she acquiesced.

"Done," said Rachel after a few more minutes.

"It looks amazing," said Olivia as she turned her head back and forth to see the full effect.

"It's so pretty, Aunt Liv," said Ella from her position on the floor beside Etta.

There was a knock. Rachel moved towards it, but stopped before opening the door. "Who is it?" asked Rachel.

Olivia used the distraction to scoop up Etta from her carrier. She'd stopped fussing, but Olivia couldn't resist holding her daughter.

"It's Nina, not Peter," called the voice.

"Oh good, come in," said Rachel.

Nina pushed open the door. "You girls ready?"

"Almost," said Olivia. Her hair and makeup might be all done up, but she was still wearing a button-down plaid shirt and jeans.

Nina swooped into the room. She wore an elegant dress in a dark blue rather than her usual black. "This is like high school all over again. You're going to miss the bus," she teased.

"I would like to point out that it was in fact Rachel that was always late," said Olivia.

"That might be true—and I'm not saying it is—but right now you're the one who is not ready," Rachel said.

It was true. Rachel's hair and makeup was done and she wore a knee-length, lavender dress. The color matched Ella's dress.

"Give me the baby and you get dressed," ordered Nina, who was also having a hard time putting Etta down.

Olivia passed her daughter over to Nina. She ducked behind a screen that matched the wallpaper. Rachel handed her the dress. She slipped it on and stepped from behind the screen.

The others in the room were silent. Rachel broke the quiet first after the pause.

"You look incredible, Liv. Just incredible. I'm so happy for you." She moved forward and gave Olivia a hug.

Nina stepped forward and kissed Olivia on the cheek. "You deserve this."

"Thank you. Both of you."

Only then did Olivia turn and look at herself in one of the mirrors. She smiled at the reflection, then made a face to stop her herself. Most of her blonde hair was pulled back in a bun with the rest of it tumbling over one shoulder. The makeup was delicate and focused on her eyes. The dress was simple. It wasn't a traditional wedding dress, just an ivory cocktail dress with thin straps and a lavender sash.

Ella got up. She stood next to Olivia and took her hand.

"What do you think, baby girl?" Olivia asked.

"I'm not the baby girl anyone. Etta is," said Ella.

"I guess you're right. What do you think, Miss Ella?"

"You look divine."

Olivia laughed. "Thank you. You ready to be the flower girl?"

Ella looked up excitedly. "Oh yes."

They all knew that Ella had talked of nothing else for the past month.

"Are you ready to get married?" asked Rachel.

Olivia turned away from the mirror. She nodded.

Nina fastened Etta back into her carrier. Ella grabbed the diaper bag, eager to help. Rachel linked arms with her sister. They make their way downstairs, passing through the waiting area for the restaurant. A few of the patrons watched. Everyone loves a wedding.

Walter was waiting for them on the patio.

"I never understand what take women so long. I should run experiments the phenomena," said Walter.

"It takes as long as it takes," said Nina. "We're ready now."

"I can see that," he said.

The ladies got reorganized. Ella passed the diaper bag to Nina. Still holding Etta in her carrier, she let one of ushers lead her down the aisle.

Nina was the queue. The music started playing. Rachel went first. Ella went next, holding her bouquet proudly. The music changed. Olivia took a deep breath. Walter held out an arm.

"You look wonderful, dear," he said. "Just as beautiful as my Elizabeth."

Olivia squeezed his arm. "Thank you, Walter."

They didn't need to say much else. Together, they stepped off the flagstone patio and walked down the aisle. A dozen or so chairs were set out in lines. At the end of aisle was an arch covered in rose vines. The sky was blue and the sun was just barely beginning to set, giving the scene a warm, golden glow.

Peter waited beneath the arch. He wore a grey suit. His tie was matching in lavender. Rachel was to the left after the space saved for Olivia.

His back was to her, but at the last minute Peter turned. He smiled and his eyes sparkled on the verge of tears.

"You look beautiful," he quietly said.

She smiled too and even blushed a little.

Walter kissed her on the cheek and shook hands with Peter. He then took his seat and the officiator began to speak. He welcomed the guests, the family and friends and began talking about the commitment of marriage.

Olivia kept her eyes on Peter. She watched him and let her mind wander. She had heard the speech before.

It was exciting, but the wedding was nearly as momentous as everyone thought it would. Not for Olivia anyway. She knew nothing was going to change between Peter and herself. She was doing it for Etta, so her daughter would never have to answer questions about her parents. She doing it for Peter, so he could have concrete evidence of the stable family he had been missing since he was a boy. After she had gained her memories of the other timeline and Peter had been reassured by September, he had held onto her so tightly that she had known they would be together. They might as well have said 'I do' in the cold street.

Planning the wedding had been something to do while she was on maternity leave. It wasn't a-best-day-of-her-life kind of moment. She already had what she wanted. Peter, Etta, it was all she needed. In all the timelines, in all the universes, it was all she needed.

She suddenly found herself thinking of her double on the other side. Somewhere out there, so close and so very, very far away. She found herself hoping the red hair who shared her face had found happiness too. Did she end up with Lincoln? Would she have children? Would their lives continuing to be radically different? Or would they fall into similar patterns? Wife, mother, work. Olivia could only wonder. She would never know.

Olivia focused back on what was being said. They were getting to the part where she had to participate.

"In sickness and in health," intoned the officiator.

Olivia made eye contact with Peter. She rolled her eyes ever so slightly. They had already been through a whole hell of lot more than sickness and health. He winked back. They had been laughing about it the day before. Peter wanted to have the words changed, but since their work—and by extension what they'd been through—was highly classified it wouldn't have been allowed.

"I do," Peter said.

"Do you Olivia Dunham take Peter Bishop to be you lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" the officiator asked Olivia.

"I do," she said.

"The rings," he said.

Eddie waddled forward. He was dressed in a smart and very little tuxedo and clutching a pillow with the rings. The crowd collectively awed. He was supposed to give the rings to the officiator and return to his seat beside his father. Instead, he panicked. He held the pillow up to Olivia. As soon as she took it from him, he went straight for Rachel. He buried his face against her legs. The audience laughed.

Olivia handed the pillow to the officiator. No one tried to convince Eddie to return to his seat.

"All are welcome here," said the officiator who a broad gesture. The audience laughed again. He cleared his throat and continued. "Do you have a ring for the bride?"

Peter removed one of the rings from the pillow and took Olivia's hand. He just held it for a moment, a beat. No one else would have noticed. It was a pause, a deep breath, the split second before everything changed.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love for you. Let it be a reminder that I am always by your side and that I will always be a faithful partner to you," he said and slipped a simple platinum band onto her ring finger. They had picked the words carefully. He had like the use of partner. That's what they had been when they first met and that's what they would be for years and years to come.

The officiator spoke again, but directed towards Olivia. "Is there a ring for the groom?"

She reached for Peter's hand and slid the matching ring onto his finger. "I give you this ring as a symbol of my love for you. Let it be a reminder that I am always by your side and that I will always be a faithful partner to you," she said. Her voice was clear.

The officiator spoke for the last time, "In as much as Olivia and Peter have consented together in wedlock and have witnessed the same before this company and pledged their vows to each other, by the authority vested in me by the State of Massachusetts, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss."

They kissed. It was soft and familiar. The kind of kiss she expected to get for the rest of her life. Though the crowd was small, they still cheered.

The newly weds laughed. They were loved by those that surrounded them. Peter held out his hand again. She took it and together they walked back down the aisle.

While the ceremony was clear in Olivia's mind, the rest of the evening was a blur, a joyous blur. She was glad Astrid's father, who was an amateur photographer, was floating around with his camera. She knew there was too much to take it. They shared a meal with their family and friends. They danced.

The sun had really set and Olivia sat off to the side at an empty table with a sleeping baby in her arms. The patio was lit by fairy lights and smiling faces. Peter danced with Ella. He knew she was watching him.

The song ended and after giving Ella one more twirl, he came over. She smiled up at him.

"Wife?" he said.

"Yes, husband?" The word felt good on her tongue.

"I think our carriage will be here soon."

They weren't taking a real honeymoon, not with a four-month old baby. However, the honeymoon suite at the Four Seasons was reserved for them for one night. Rachel, Greg and the kids were staying at the house with Etta. Peter and Olivia were under strict orders not to come home or worry for twenty-four hours. There was a limo coming to take them to the hotel.

"I guess we should find Rachel and say goodbye," said Olivia, not looking forward to handing her child off the first time over night.

Peter was already scanning the group of people. Rachel caught his eye and came directly to them.

"The car should be here in ten minutes," she said.

"We know," said Olivia. "We don't want to make a scene. We'll just slip out, but we're not going to take the little one with us."

Rachel gingerly took Etta out of her sister's arms. "Don't worry about anything."

"I won't, but—" said Olivia.

"Nope, I've got it."

"I know, but—"

"No buts."

"Please, remember—"

"I remember."

"You didn't let me—"

"It doesn't matter."

"Let me finish what I—"

"Nope."

Olivia looked like she wanted to deck her sister. Peter laughed. "Alright, I think Rachel is giving us a hint."

"He's a smart man, you've got there," said Rachel.

"Husband," Olivia corrected.

"Smart husband," Rachel said with a smirk.

Nina appeared. "The limousine is here."

"Okay, we're going," said Olivia. She leaned over a place a gentle kiss on the top of Etta head. "Good night. We'll see you tomorrow. Love you."

Peter did the same.

"Now, go you two. Don't worry about anything," said Rachel.

"Okay, okay. Thanks for everything, Rach. The hair and planning most of this. It was perfect," said Olivia, looking seriously at her sister.

"You are welcome. I think Nina said it well. You deserve this."

Olivia smiled. Peter said good night too. "You'll make sure Walter makes it home?" he asked the little group.

"Yes, a car has already been arranged," said Nina. She waved her hands in the direction of the exit. Peter and Olivia started moving.

"I know that," said Peter over his shoulder. "That doesn't mean he'll actually make it back to his lab."

"I'll make sure," said Nina again.

"And tell him we said goodbye," said Olivia.

"It's under control," said Rachel.

They were at the front now, where a sleek, black limo was waiting. They said good night to their daughter one last time and got into the car.

"Are you doing okay?" asked Peter after they had been driving for a while.

"Yes," she said simply. She scooted closer and rested a hand on his leg.

"She's absolutely fine. Rachel will take good care of her."

"I know. I'm not worried. I just don't like being away from her."

"I'm just wondering if she misses us."

Olivia didn't answer. She doubted a four-month old was able to wonder where her parents had gone or even really notice as long as someone fed and changed her. Peter was always more sentimental than she was. It didn't do any good to point it out. It was Olivia who missed Etta, not the other way around.

"She'll be fine. We'll be home tomorrow and wishing we had a babysitter."

He laughed and kissed her. "You're right, but I don't want to wish away tonight."

Olivia raised an eyebrow and looked at him with what old movies would call bedroom eyes. "We're still not going to get much sleep."

"No, we are not." He kissed her again.

The limo pulled into the covered driveway of the hotel. A doorman opened the door for them and showed them to the front desk.

"How may if help you tonight, sir?" asked the woman behind the desk. She wore a crisp uniform.

"My wife and I—" he paused to cast of a wide smile in Olivia's direction. She smiled back. "We're checking in. The honeymoon suite."

"Of course, Mr. Bishop. Everything is ready for you. Clark will show you up with your bags." She indicated a bellhop who had appeared. "And congratulations."

"Thank you," said Peter and Olivia at the same time.

She slipped under his arm as they walked towards the elevator. His gripped tighten for a moment and then relaxed as if they fit together. And they did. There lives were crazy and messed up most of the time, but they had somehow managed to find each other. It felt right.

They rode the elevator all the way to the top. The bellhop showed them into the room. It was enormous and impeccably furnished. The turn down service had already come and gone. Olivia eyed the bucked of champagne chilling one of surfaces. Everything was waiting just for them. The bellhop gave them a short tour and disappeared.

Olivia stood by the large, picture windows, staring out over the city and the harbor. She kicked off her heels and started to take down her hair one pin at a time. Peter wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"This room is ridiculous. It's bigger than my old apartment. It's a great view, though," she said.

"I have a great view, too," he said and his voice vibrated against her back.

"Champagne," she said after a pause.

He didn't say anything, just hooked a finger underneath the thin strap of her dress and pulled it down her shoulder. He kissed the spot where it had been.

She heard the ice rattling in the bucket and the satisfying pop of the cork. He returned to the window and handed her one of the crystal glasses brimming with the bubbly alcohol. They clinked the glasses together.

She took a huge gulp. She hadn't had any thing to drink at the wedding because she was breast-feeding. She was officially off duty now and the alcohol would be out of her system by the time she saw Etta again. So, she allowed herself to enjoy it.

"Happy?" asked Peter.

She smiled. "I don't know why everyone keeps asking me that. Of course, I'm happy. How could I not be? My daughter is sleeping soundly with my sister and I just married the love of my life, even though the ceremony wasn't really necessary because I know we'll always be there for each other."

"That's right. I'm never going to lose you again."

Stretching up, she kissed him on the cheek with her hand lingering against his face. She then moved away from him, pretending to explore the room and greedily slipping from her champagne until she stopped beside the king-sized bed. As she set her glass down on the nightstand, Peter came up behind her again.

He slowly unzipped her dress and lowered over her hips. She stepped out of it. He gathered it up and laid it over the back of an armchair in a little sitting area beside another picture window.

She stood in front of him in nothing, but the fine, lacy lingerie she'd purchased for exactly this moment. She still felt fuller than she had before she pregnancy, but she was working hard to get back into the field ready shape. She guessed it showed by the look on Peter's face when he turned back around.

Olivia grabbed his tie and pulled him back to her. She tucked her hand beneath the shoulders of his jacket and slipped it away from his body. He did not put up a fight as she then began to work on the knot of his tie with slow, deliberate moments. Then, she moved onto the buttons of his shirt.

He tried to kiss her a few time, but she always remained just outside his reach. He moaned low, more like a growl.

The shirt felt to the floor. She lifted his undershirt over his head. The game is too much for both of them. As soon as the t-shirt passes over his head, they collide.

He kissed her hard and deep. She fumbled for his belt buckle as they move closer to the bed. They tumbled onto the mattress. He was on top. His hips were finally freed from his pants. He buried his face in her neck. His hands were entwined in her long, blonde hair. He untangled his fingers just long enough to get his hands underneath her arched back to undo her bra.

His lips moved down her collarbone, across her chest and down her stomach. She moaned now, but he stayed around her midsection, fascinated by the space where their child came from.

Now, he was playing games, teasing her with the closeness that wasn't close enough. And she let him. This was what he was after. That moment where she just let go. She melted under the weight of his body. He lifted his head and their eyes locked.

She wriggled free just long enough to scoot more solidly onto the bed. He followed her after stepping out of his dress pants, boxers and yanking off his socks.

Hands slid up her calves and along her thighs. He took hold of her underwear and tugged them down. She was not passive, but she allowed him to direction the motions. Her own hands found his strong shoulders and moved smoothly down his back. She bit his muscular forearm to get his attention. He turned, pressing his nose against her. She kissed him. He kissed back and pushed inside her. They moved together.

Nothing has changed or at least she tried to tell herself that. She still knew every inch of Peter's body. He still knew exactly what to do to make the fire in her belly burn fiercely.

Her thoughts floated away from her. She was distracted, but it was freeing. She was not weighed down; she saw clearly.

There was a feeling of triumph. She'd done it. She had the happy ending she had scarcely dared to believe in. She had been a shield for so many people. She had made sure they got what they wanted, Rachel in particular. She didn't blame them, but she had taken the bullets to protect those she cared about. Figuratively, of course, but she would have actually done it.

She had managed to pull together a happiness that was deeper than anything she could have dreamed of because she had earned it. All the grief, all the memories, a part of her wished it hadn't happened, but she wouldn't change it. Those horrible things had brought her here. She wouldn't go back to before as she had almost begged after John Scott had died. If there hadn't been an after she wouldn't have Peter. She wouldn't have Etta.

Articulating this was well beyond her. She could only hold to Peter. And she did. Fingers digging into his back as their pace reach its climax. For a few blissful moments, Olivia thought of nothing. She was pure sensation.

It was quiet except for their heavy breathing and little murmurs of pleasure.

He rolled off her. He lay on his back with his arms spread across the bed. She tucked against his chest and put her head into the space beneath his chin.

"Are you happy?" Olivia asked. They had been distracted before she could ask him.

"Yes," he said as if the single word was all he could manage.

She didn't push him to be more eloquent. She already knew what he was thinking. He wasn't thinking of the physical pleasure. He was thinking that he had the one thing he had always wanted. He had a home.

"We're lucky," he said. "It took a lot to get here, but it was worth it in the end."

She sighed in a content way. "I was thinking the same thing."

"Today was perfect. You looked amazing. I couldn't believe it."

"What is that supposed to mean, Mr. Bishop?"

"I mean, Mrs. Bishop, that I didn't know you could get any better. I've seen you dressed up before, but this was different. You had on your wedding dress."

She didn't answer right way. "I do feel different. I thought it was going to be like a birthday. You turn a year older, but you don't really feel any different."

He reached for her left hand, which was resting on his bare chest. He kissed the ring.

"It's doesn't change the way I feel, but it makes it official now. You're stuck with me," he said.

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"There is no other person I would rather be stuck with. In any universe. In any timeline."

"But most importantly here and now," he said and if it was possible pulled her a little closer.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! I officially have two more parts planned out. Stay tuned! They may not come as regularly as these other parts. I'd appreciate if you bare with me.


	8. Memories

Part 8: Memories

"I think I could stay here for the rest of my life," said Peter.

The sound of his voice seemed to echo. Nothing had changed. It was still sunny; the sky was still blue; the glass was still green. Etta was still wearing a pink dress. She still had her hair in pigtails Peter had proudly done that morning. Olivia was still lying on the blanket with a book in front of her. She could still feel his head resting on her back.

But something had changed. Or something was about to happen. She couldn't tell. She spent entire life waiting for this moment and she'd never realized before.

"We should get her home soon. Get her into a bath, which is never easy," she said, trying to mask her panic and confusion.

He didn't notice as he sat up. "I nominate you for that one." He then called out loudly, "Etta! It's time to go. Come on, kiddo. It's time to go home."

Etta knelt in the grass, plucking dandelions. She looked up when Peter called her name and started racing towards him. Peter bent down with his arms out wide, waiting to catch his daughter.

Etta was perfect. Olivia's tiny baby had grown so much. She was three years old and full of personality and things to say. She was a little person and that only make Olivia love her more.

Olivia was paralyzed by the idea that something happening to her daughter. She had thought they had make it over the last hurtle, out of the woods. They had survived the first few years and Etta was still showed no signs of any abnormalities. She was normal and it was more than Olivia dared hope for.

Olivia held her breath. The view of family seemed to slow down. If he caught her, everything would be okay. He just needed to get her safely in his arms and then they could go home and she would get Etta cleaned up and they would have dinner and go to bed. He just needed to catch her.

Etta took another step towards her father and it all came rushing back to Olivia. She almost heard an actual sound as her mind was flooded with bits and broken memories.

Etta missing. Being separated from Peter. Etta grown up. Etta dead. The plan. The boy. September. Walter gone. And Observers. Hundreds of Observers.

With the horrifying memories came a sense of calm. Peter would catch her. The plan worked.

He looked over his shoulder and smiled. It was a beautiful day. He saw no reason to worry. She smiled back, hoping he would miss the knowing gaze she couldn't help but give him.

He turned back around and scooped Etta up. Round and round they spun. Etta's arms were outstretched and she grasped naked dandelion stems. She laughed.

Olivia wanted to cry. It _had_ worked. They had done it. Or rather Walter had done it. Her child would never grow up alone. She would never fight for a cause. She would never die for a cause. The rest of the world would never suffer under invaders from the future.

She heard Peter say, "You ready to go home?"

Etta nodded, still smiling. Still laughing. Still safe.

Olivia forced herself to move. She sat up on her knees with her feet tucked underneath her. She lifted her face to the sunshine and tried to be as ignorant as Peter. She couldn't process the memories yet. As she had done the last time different memories entered her mind, she had to just let it sit. She had to let the images and feelings and events shuffled themselves into order, like a deck of cards.

Etta squirmed out Peter's grasp. She raced across the short distance and dove into Olivia's arms.

"Mommy! Look! Flowers!" she said and held up the stems.

Olivia didn't answer. She held onto her daughter. She buried her face in Etta's hair. She took in the scent. The weight of the little body nestled in hers. She kissed her cheeks again and again.

"I love you so much," she said and then she said it few more time.

Etta giggled. "Love you too."

She didn't understand how deeply Olivia meant it. How could she?

"My flowers," said Etta. "They blew away."

"They'll make new flowers," said Olivia.

"Really?" asked Etta, looking around to see the new flowers.

"It'll take awhile, though." Olivia laughed. She reached over and plucked a buttercup from the grass. She tucked it behind Etta's ear. Her gave her one last kiss in her chubby cheek. "You ready to go home, baby girl?"

Etta nodded again.

"Go show Daddy your flower. Let me get the blanket."

Etta dashed off again, dancing around Peter and telling him about her little flower. Olivia bent down and began to fold the blanket, still conscious every second of where Etta was.

Peter came closer. He gathered the rest of their things and stuffed them in the bag. He took the folded blanket from her.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Why?" The answer wasn't strictly true, but he didn't need to know what was wrong. Not yet anyway.

"You look like you're somewhere else."

"I'm right here," she said firmly.

He knew not to push or pull information out of her. She knew what he meant, though. Every part of her mind that wasn't focusing on the task in front of her was devoted to sifting through what she could remember of the future. The future that never will be.

She looked around for Etta to avoid his gaze. The little girl had run ahead in the direction of the path back towards the parking lot. They had about a ten-minute walk back to their car and Etta had raced ahead of them on the way to the park. As long as Olivia had been able to see Etta, she hadn't worried. Now, she wanted her close. "Don't go too far," called Olivia.

Etta stopped and looked back defiantly.

"Come hold my hand," said Olivia. They started walking. She reached out for her daughter.

"Why?" said Etta, holding out the word in a long, whiny way.

"Because it's a beautiful day and want to hold my daughter's hand. Come here, baby girl."

As if it were the worst punishment in the world, Etta waited for her parents to catch up and took Olivia's hand. She reached up for Peter's too. He shifted the blanket to his other arm and grabbed her outstretched hand.

"Swing me," said Etta almost at once.

"1-2-3," counted Peter.

Olivia and Peter lifted her up a few feet and swung her back down.

"Again!" Etta called out.

So they did it again and most of the way back to the car. An older couple past going in the opposite direction. They smiled and Olivia nodded back.

She heard the woman say, "Do you remember when Mark was little?"

"I used to think my arms would fall off," answered the man.

Olivia looked over at Peter. He'd been listening to them too. "Us in fifteen years," he said.

She could only smile back; she didn't trust herself to speak.

The little family finally reached their SUV and Olivia's arm did feel like it was about to fall off. Yet she managed to wrangle Etta into her car seat as Peter dumped the rest of the stuff in the trunk.

She climbed into the passenger seat and reached behind her to grab Etta's roly-poly leg. She gently squeezed. Etta giggled. Olivia let go.

Peter got to the car a moment later and started the drive home. Olivia leaned back in her seat and watched Etta dancing off time with the radio.

"Are you sure you're okay?" asked Peter, catching her wistful mood.

She nodded and then shook her head. "I'll explain later. You don't have to worry, okay?"

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing we can change."

"You can't just tell me not to worry. That's just going to make me worry more."

"I don't want to upset Etta."

He sighed in frustrated way, but he knew not to push or pull information out of her.

They rest of the ride was quiet. She wished she hadn't said anything because she knew a thousand possibilities were running through is head. She couldn't tell everything was all right, though. His father was gone. And Peter wouldn't remember saying goodbye.

They pulled into their garage twenty minutes later.

"If I'm on b-a-t-h duty," said Olivia. "You are in charge of dinner."

"Deal. Damiano's?" he said.

They were both out the car. Olivia was unbuckling Etta while he unloaded the trunk. They spoke to each other over the headrests of the back seat.

"Do you really want to go get it?" They lived in the house for almost four years and they were still not used to the fact that their favorite pizza place didn't deliver so far away.

"No, not really."

"Mario's is fine," she said. Mario's was almost as good as Damiano's. Almost. She shifted her focus to Etta as she lifted her out of the car seat. "How's that sound, baby girl? You want pizza for dinner?"

"Pizza!" said Etta with all the enthusiasm a three year old could muster.

"I would say that's a yes," said Olivia.

"Pizza, pizza, pizza!" sang Etta, bouncing up and down in Olivia's arms.

She moved towards the backdoor, pulled the keys out of her purse, and unlocked the door all with one hand. The other was holding a wiggling toddler on her hip. She was surprised her still remember how to do that, how to multitask with one hand. Muscle memory, she guessed. Or perhaps it was because no time had actually passed. Her mind was telling her it had been over six month and even that was incorrect. She'd been stuck in amber for over twenty years.

She gave her head a small shake. Not now. Right now she needed all her strength to convince a little girl to take a bath.

"Do you know what needs to happen before pizza, though?" asked Olivia as she crossed the kitchen, dropping her bag on the table and kicking her shoes into a corner.

"What?" said Etta, excitedly. They reached the stairs

"Bath time!"

"Why?" said Etta, dragging out the word again. Excitement gone in a moment.

"Because you were running around all afternoon in the park."

"I'm not dirty!"

"Baby, you've got something on your cheek right here." Olivia planned a big kiss on Etta's soft skin. "It's bath time."

"Fill the tub with dandelions! Then I can lot of flowers in my hair."

"You're being silly."

"Flower tub!" demanded Etta, laughing at her own joke.

"How about bubbles?"

That satisfied Etta. The bubbles were a treat. Etta had got the tablets for Christmas. They colored the water and made it froth. It was a mess. Or rather Etta made a mess.

The idea of bathing in flower was forgotten. Etta was wiggling in Olivia's arms again. "Yes! Bubbles! Bubbles! Can we do pink? Or green?"

"Whatever color you like, kiddo, but you have to make me a promise. When I say it time to get out, I don't want any complaining."

"I won't. I promise!"

Olivia shook her head. She didn't believe her daughter for a second. She had to try though.

They reached Etta's room. Olivia pushed open the door with her foot. She peered around before stepping through the doorway. She didn't know what she was expecting. It was exactly as it had been the last time she'd seen it.

It was not as orderly as usual since Peter had been in charge of the morning routine. The walls were still pale green and the furniture was white. It was still a warm and comfortable room.

Yet it seemed haunted now. Olivia had a vague memory of sitting beside Etta's empty bed for days after she went missing. She shook her head again. Not now.

She set Etta down on the miniature bed. She instantly started bouncing. Normally, Olivia would've stopped the behavior with a look, but she couldn't help indulge Etta, like it was her birthday a hundred times over.

She left Etta in her room and moved across the hall bathroom. She bent over the tub and started the water. She stood there a few seconds with her finger tips in the jet waiting for the temperature to rise.

Her mind was still wondering through a future that wouldn't be. She had to focus on what was in front of her. The motions were so familiar, so normal, though they resonated. They didn't feel like a routine, but like she was play-acting. There was an audience and she was only pretending.

A small noise behind her made her look around. Focus, she told herself again. Etta was standing in the doorway, naked except for her Mini Mouse underpants.

"Bubbles!" she yelled and ran away.

Olivia could only laugh. She put her head back and laughed so hard it made her stomach hurt. She plugged the tub, so it began to fill and went to find her wild child.

Etta peaked around the corner to the master bedroom. Olivia pretended not to see her right away and first checked in Etta's room. When Olivia's back was to Etta, she spun quickly on the spot.

"Boo!" said Olivia.

Etta squealed and started to run away again. It only took a few steps for Olivia to catch up. She scooped Etta up and dropped her onto the queen-sized bed.

Etta tried to squirm away. Olivia caught her and ran her fingers up and down her ticklish sides. She blew a raspberry on Etta's belly. She squealed and tried to push her mother away, but she was laughing too hard.

Olivia flopped down on the bed. Etta lay next to her on her stomach, guarding it from more raspberries. They were both still for just a moment. Olivia leaned over and kissed Etta on her shoulder. The skin was soft, and warm, and so familiar, and so faraway.

"You're beautiful," said Olivia, quietly and her own words echoed. She wasn't seeing the toddler; she was seeing the woman the child would become.

"Like a princess?" asked Etta and the innocence of question almost tore Olivia's heart apart.

Olivia had to close her eyes for a moment. She swallowed. She put a smile on her face. "Yes, like a princess. A princess in need of a bath. Let's go put the bubbles in before the tub over flows."

Etta jumped over the bed and raced back into the bathroom. Olivia followed after retrieving the coloring tablet from her medicine cabinet. They needed to be kept out of Etta's reach.

Etta picked a purple one the tub was quickly filled with lavender bubbles. It was usually hard to get Etta into the tub; it was hard to get Etta clean; it was hard to get Etta out of the tub. She usually fought every step of process. With the bubbles, getting Etta into the tub was no problem. Still, Olivia had to plow through and scrub her daughter before letting her just play in the water.

After nearly ten minutes of dodging, Etta was clean from her long, blonde hair and down. Olivia dropped the washcloth into the water. She leaned against the edge of tub and let her fingertips drip into the warm water.

"Play now?" asked Etta.

"Henrietta, you are clean. You can play," Olivia said

She scooped up a handful of bubble and set them on top of Etta's head. Etta giggled. Olivia tried to keep her thought as light as the bubbles. She looked up and saw Peter watching the scene.

He was pale. His eyes were wide. He clutched an envelope in his hand. She gave him a hard look. 'What's wrong?' she asked without saying anything. She didn't want to upset Etta. The little girl was too smart. She understood most of their words and all the emotions behind them.

"He's gone. Isn't he?" asked Peter.

If Olivia hadn't already been sitting, she would've needed to find a chair. How did he know? She wouldn't wish these memories in anyone, especially not Peter.

"Who's gone?" she asked and she already knew the answer.

"Walter," he said. "He's gone. I don't know where though. Do you know?"

He sounded like a little boy, who was trying to say calm after losing his father in a department store. She leaped up and embraced him. She pulled him against her and he buried his face on her neck.

"Yes, he's gone. He sacrificed to give us our daughter back and to get the world away from the Observers. He's a hero. The greatest hero in two universes."

He pulled away. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Don't try. Let your mind find the order of the memories on its own. Just give it a little time. You learn how to sort it out."

"Is this what it's like all the time? All these memories all mixed up."

"At first, but—" she was cut off by the doorbell.

"The pizza," he said.

"You let your mind make sense of it and we'll wait until she is asleep. We can't do this now."

He nodded grimly and disappeared back towards the stairs. Olivia turned back to Etta. She'd stopped playing. She was looking up with her big eyes wide, just like her father's.

"Dada's upset," she said.

Olivia didn't answer right away. At some point, she was also going to have to make Etta understand she was never going to see her grandfather again. Now wasn't the time, but also couldn't she brush off the change in tone Etta recognized. No, she wouldn't lie.

"Daddy got some bad news. He's sad," Olivia said.

She pulled the plug and the tub started draining. She motioned for Etta to stand up. For once, she didn't complain. When Etta was on her feet, Olivia wrapped her in a towel and lifted her out of the tub.

"Can I make him happy again?" asked Etta.

"That's exactly what you should do, baby girl. I think he would like that a lot."

Etta snuggled deeper into the towel and into her mother's arms. "I'll make him happy," she said.

Olivia kissed the top of her wet head. Back in Etta's room, Olivia put her into footy pajamas and brushed her hair.

They moved back downstairs. Peter was standing in the kitchen in front of the oven staring at nothing. Olivia put Etta down and she ran straight to her father. She hugged his legs.

"I'll help," she said.

He looked around, slightly confused, like he couldn't remember what she was talking about.

"Want to set the table?" he asked.

Etta nodded. He pulled open a drawer and handed her three forks and three cloth napkins. She danced her way to the table and climbed onto a chair to reach it. With all of her concentration, she placed a napkin at each chair and a fork on top of it.

Peter then looked at Olivia. "Alcohol?" he said.

"Wine," she answered.

He reached up to the wine rack above the refrigerator and picked out a bottle. While he opened it, Olivia pulled the pizza box out of the oven. She put slices on plates and cut the third into manageable bites for Etta.

They sat down for their family dinner. Etta was still being as well behaved, sweet, and charming as she could be. The adults were quiet, but not necessarily uncomfortably so. They mostly just listened to what Etta had to say. Her thoughts and opinions mattered even more than ever.

When they had finished eating, they played a board game. They let Etta win. When it was bedtime, Olivia suggested Peter put her to sleep. "She's been trying to cheer you up," she said.

"She's such a sweet kid," was all he said.

Olivia smiled at him. She made sure to give Etta a kiss goodnight before they went upstairs. Olivia continued to stand in the middle of the kitchen.

She looked down and realized she was fishing in her pocket. What she was looking for wasn't there. It was upstairs in a little box with her jewelry. It hadn't been made into a necklace. It hadn't been worn and given away by her daughter. It hadn't saved her life or Peter's.

She quietly slipped up the stairs. She paused outside Etta's door just to listen to muffled sound of Peter reading, then continued into her room. She took the bullet out of the jewelry box on her dresser. The metal was cool in her palm. She examined it for a moment, then closed her hand around it.

She moved back downstairs and into the family room. The room was dark. The sun had set. She clicked on a small lamp in the corner. It was only enough to fill half the room. She didn't bother to turn anything else on.

She curled up on the corner of the over-stuff couch with her feet tucked underneath her body and attempted to gather her thoughts.

The Invasion. Etta missing. Being separated from Peter. Waking up from amber. Etta grown up. Etta dead. Peter with the tech in his head. The plan. Michael. Going to the other side. September. Walter gone forever. And always too many Observers to count.

She sighed. She didn't think she was missing anything. All the pieces fit together. She had to take the clinical view of it. She couldn't delve into how it had felt. Just thinking of the way this day could've ended was nearly tearing her apart. It wasn't just her daughter who had come home instead of going missing. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of families were together tonight because of Walter. She had to think of it like that. She had to.

A few minutes later, Peter appeared and settled on the couch very closely to her. She set the bullet down on the coffee table in front of them. Next to it, he placed a slightly crumpled piece of paper. There was a drawing of a tulip on it.

"Tell me everything," he said.

"I think you should tell what you remember."

"Is it remembering? It hasn't happened, right? It's like a horrible dream."

"What do you remember?" she said again, just a little more forcefully.

"Observers. Or Invaders. A lot of dead and missing. Etta dead. Our daughter with a hole in chest. Oh God, Olivia." He couldn't finish. He covered his face with his hands.

She reached out and pulled him closer, so his forehead rested on her shoulder.

"She's alive. She's upstairs safe in her bed," Olivia said.

"But that woman still dies. That incredible woman. She was so brave and strong."

"She was extraordinary."

"I couldn't save her. Twice, I let her down. How can be trusted to protect our perfect little soul?"

Olivia's breath caught. He had said those words before.

"You just do it. We do it for the woman we lost. We mourn her and we honor her by teaching the little girl we have with us to be just like her. We teach her to be strong and brave and fight with everything she has for others."

He sat up and nodded. The pain was visible on his face. "And what about Walter?"

"He changed time. Something about a paradox. He took the boy into the future to show them there was another way. He gave the Observers a heart so taking our world from us would never be an option. He's a hero."

"Walter," he said quietly.

"He really did it for you. He just wanted you to be happy. That's all he ever wanted. His actions were usually dangerously reckless and the consequences spiraled out of his control, but he only ever wanted you to be happy."

"I was his very favorite thing," he said and started to cry.

There was nothing Olivia could do, but hold onto him. She could count the number of times she'd seen him cry like this. And the number was very small. He shook in her arms with nearly silent, but powerful sobs.

"He's gone from our lives," said Olivia after a while. "He's just living in another place. He's probably love it. He said something about getting to drive flying cars."

He sat up at long last and just shook his head in a way that said 'oh Walter.' The way he had thousands of times before.

"How do you do it?" he asked. "How do you keep it all straight? How am I not going to break down ever time I look at our daughter?"

"You just do."

"Tell me what I'm missing."

She gave him a quick summary of what she could remember, as if it were a briefing for Broyles. "It'll be easier to keep track of since it's not an entire lifetime of memories," she finished.

"It's a lifetime of suffering."

"That's true. It's more than anyone should be asked to endure. No one has ever asked us what we wanted. We do what we have to so other don't have to."

"I'm done," he said. "I don't want to be apart of this anymore. I want out and I want Etta as far away from it." He got from the couch. His face was still red from crying and there were still wet marks on his cheeks. Pacing back and forth, he started ranting. Their job was unbearable. How could anyone expect some much? How could the world be so awful? He was quitting this time for sure. Never again. He wasn't going back.

Olivia let him burn himself out without saying anything. He had said this all before. She didn't doubt his conviction. He meant every word. The restless side of him was winning at the moment. The side that hated the idea of rules and responsibilities and putting down roots.

Tomorrow would be different. He was needed, even more so now that Walter wouldn't be in the lab. She did like the idea of getting away for a while. Maybe they could take a leave of absence. Go somewhere. Anywhere else. But would come back because they were needed.

"I love you," she said, interrupting him. "I'm done being apart. We do it as a family, no matter what happens."

He stopped walking and came to sit next to her again. "I owe you an apology. I owe you a million apologies," he said. The anger was gone and replaced with sadness again. "The details aren't clear, but I know wasn't there for you the way I promised to be."

He was right. She fully recognized he had been struggling with the loss of their daughter too, but they could've grieved together. Though, she could say the same thing about herself.

"We just weren't able or were incapable of being what we needed to be for each other. And that was all it was," she said, knowing she had said those words before.

"I know you're trying to justify it, but I did something worse. I cut myself off so completely. Something with tech."

"You remember that?"

"The remember the blind rage and pain and then the stillness, like nothing could get in."

She nodded. She could understand how that would be relief.

He continued, "I promised to never lose you again and I let us slip away. And then I almost did it again. I'm not going to let it happen again. I promise. Whatever happens next we do it as a family. Together."

"Together."

"I still don't understand what happens next. I might learn how to live with the memories, but where do we go from here?"

Olivia shrugged. "I think we think about it tomorrow. We go to bed and think about Henrietta safe in her bed instead of alone in that dark world. We think about Walter and how grateful we are. We honor the memories. We don't run from it."

"Emotions are our strength," he said.

She shivered and gave him another sharp look.

"I don't know where those words came from. It's still confusing. It's like waking up from a nightmare with no memory of what the dream was about and then someone told what it was about. I feel everything, but I can't picture it."

"I see everything and don't feel it. I'm just relieved." She won't let herself feel was closer to the truth.

"We're a funny pair."

She didn't answer. Her mind wondered back over every moment that brought them together and every miss step that separated them.

Finally, someone moved. Peter stood up. "I want to go check on Etta."

She nodded. She couldn't blame him.

"I want to keep her close for a while. She's supposed to spend a night with Nina next weekend. Let's have Nina come here. I don't want Etta out if my sight."

Again, Olivia just nodded.

He marched purposefully upstairs. He would handle this practically. Keep their daughter close until the danger had passed. When would the danger pass? As much as she hated the answer, it would never pass. There would always be something else. For today, she had done what she could for her child. She had saved her. She found she had forgotten about the rest of the world. Only Henrietta mattered.

She got up and followed Peter upstairs. He was standing in the doorway to Etta's room. The hallway light spilling into the room and across her little, sleeping form.

Olivia circled her arms around his waist. Neither spoke or even moved for a long time.

It was Olivia who broke the spell.

"Come to bed," she said. She took his hand and led him to their room.

They made love out of a need to be close, rather than passion. Then, they fell asleep tangled together in way they hadn't done in years. It some ways it had been that long and in others they had slept like this only last night.

He felt solid against her skin. He was here. He was scared and confused and he was probably already missing his father, but he was here.

They were going to get through this. They were going to be all right. He was here; Etta was here. One man had disappeared instead of hundreds, thousands. They had saved the world. She closed her eyes and listened to his breathing, feeling safe and sound.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you think. There's one more part to come, so stay tuned!


	9. Future

Part 9: Future

There was a scream down the hall. Olivia and Peter both jerked awake at the same moment. She was more aware than he was. The panic that had filled her at the noise died down quickly. Still, she untangled herself from Peter and from the sheets.

"I'll go," she said. There was another loud sound.

"No, I've got it. You haven't been feeling well. You need sleep." He half sat up. She could only see his outline in their dark bedroom.

"Mommy! Mommy!" came Etta's voice.

"No, I'll go. She's wants me anyway."

Peter flopped down onto his pillow. He couldn't really argue with that.

Olivia slipped from the room and flipped on the hall light. She blinked in the sudden brightness, but didn't wait to get adjusted. The door to Etta's room was already open a crack. She pushed it wide.

Etta was thrashing under her covers. She cried out again. Olivia was at her side. She gathered her daughter in her arms.

"Henrietta, wake up. I'm here. Etta, come on," said Olivia.

Etta continued to struggled for a moment more and tried to break free. At last, she became aware for where she was. She hugged tightly to Olivia and started to cry. Olivia held on.

Etta was four now, almost five. Her nightmares had begun a few weeks after the day Walter disappeared. Peter and Olivia didn't talk about what else could've happened on that day. Not anymore. They had agonized over it for months. It seemed like they had finally found space in their life to accept what they'd been through when the nightmares had started.

Etta was a special kid. As heartbreaking as it was to watch her daughter struggle, Olivia wasn't surprised that something of the terrifying years Etta might have spent growing up along echoed backward.

When the dreams had first started, it had been almost every night. Etta would wake screaming in her bed or her parents. It didn't matter. It would take a few minutes to convince Etta she was safe and then even longer to help her go back to sleep. During the day, Etta remained her happy self, but at night she was often timid and afraid of everything.

That was almost a year ago, Peter had taught Etta the same mantra Walter had taught him. _Please don't dream tonight. Please don't dream tonight.__ Please don't dream tonight._ It had helped. But Etta was still a kid and sometimes she forgot or felt asleep too quickly. She would wake and the only person she wanted was Olivia. Like tonight. Olivia would leave her bed and settle into Etta's to coax her back to sleep.

"Want to tell me about it, baby girl?" said Olivia when Etta's sobs slowed.

"No," said Etta in a muffled voice. She started to cry again.

Olivia rocked her gently. She kissed Etta's cheeks, again and again, wiping a way the tears. Even now, even in the middle of middle of night, Olivia marveled at how big her daughter was as she held her. Wasn't it just a few days ago she held Etta in one arm and rocked her to sleep? Now, she was this little independent person.

"Come on. You know it helps."

"The bald man was chasing me and I was alone."

The bald man. Even now the Observers were a source of pain. The other version of Etta had grown up in their shadow, breathed their air, and had her thoughts invaded by them. They were gone—or rather they would never be—and still they haunted her.

Olivia pushed Etta's hair away from her forehead. She kissed the spot. "I'm sorry you were alone. You're not alone anymore. I'm here and I will always do my best to keep you safe."

Etta just signed with a shaking breath.

"Come on, baby girl. Lie down," said Olivia.

Etta resisted, but let her mother settled her down. Olivia knelt beside the bed and curled her arms around the top of Etta's head. She began running her fingers through Etta's long, blonde hair again and again.

"What do we say?" asked Olivia.

"Please don't dream tonight," said Etta.

Olivia repeated the phrase a few more times. Her voice was soft and low. After nearly half an hour, the combination of the repetitive motion and the words was enough to get Etta's eyes to begin to close.

Olivia stopped playing with Etta's hair. Etta sighed, but didn't stir. She was asleep.

Olivia didn't move right away. She hated this. It was always something. It didn't matter how hard they had fought. It didn't matter that Walter saved the world for Etta; there were still consequences.

Olivia just wished there was something more she could do. Something more just being there to soothe her daughter back to sleep. Still, she was glad she could that for her child.

Normally, Etta was a complete and total daddy's girl. She went to Peter when she bummed her head. She went to Peter when she wanted to play. Or when she was hungry. She went to Peter first when she needed just about anything.

Etta came to her mother when she was scared. She preferred the way Olivia read stories. Etta loved to cuddle, to be close. She came to Olivia for that too. Olivia's relationship with her daughter was quiet. Where with Peter it was loud and playful. She didn't mind the difference. Each parent gave Etta exactly what she needed.

Olivia did what she could, but of course it gutted her to see the terror that Etta experienced. She couldn't let herself imagine the strange memories that caused the dreams. Olivia had learned to live with most of what they had experienced. However, the way Etta had grown up alone haunted her. She had had no one. No one to kiss her good night. No one to keep her safe. No family.

It was the part that haunted Etta too. No matter what happened in her dreams, no matter who was chancing her or what happened, she was always alone. She was always trying to find her parents.

Olivia was confident that the Invasion would never happen. They had saved the world. However, her job and Peter's was still dangerous. Etta could still end up alone. It would never be as bad as what happened the day of the Invasion. She would have Rachel and Nina. But she would be entirely alone.

The thought still plagued Olivia. She dreamed of it herself. She thought back to the days right after her mother had died. She and Rachel had clung to each other. They'd been alone except for each other.

The little girl sighed in her sleep again and interrupted Olivia's thoughts. She needed to go back to her own bed.

She got up carefully to avoid disturbing Etta in anyway and slipped from the room. She turned the hallway light off again. Then, she crept back into her room and into her bed.

Peter wasn't entirely asleep. As soon as she was under the sheets, he rolled towards her and wrapped an arm across her body.

"What was it?" he asked. His voice was groggy.

"The bald man," said Olivia.

"Poor kid. It's been a while since she had a dream, hasn't it?"

"Almost four months."

"That's a good sign."

"I hope so."

He didn't say anything else. He'd fallen asleep mid-thought.

Should she wake him up properly? Tell him now? No, she'd wait until the morning. Etta had swimming lessons and it was another family's turn to drive. The adults would have a few hours to themselves.

She hadn't taken the home test yet. Though, she was sure what the answer would be. She felt the same as she had last time with Etta. She'd needed to sit with the idea for just a little while. She didn't want to keep anything from Peter, but she needed to get herself ready for the process again. Or the possibly of the process. And everything that came afterwards.

She closed her eyes. Sit with the idea. Don't really think about. Don't think about the past. Don't think about the future. Just be aware of what was probably going onto inside her belly. Just be. It wasn't easy, but after a little while Olivia was also asleep.

She heard Etta racing up the stairs. The child was incapable of the walking between the first and second floors. There was a pause, and then her little voice yelled, "Found them!"

Olivia listens the pounding of Etta's feet as she ran back downstairs.

"Henrietta, Mommy is still sleeping. We have to be quiet," Peter called almost as loudly as Etta.

Olivia opened her eyes just to roll them. She was awake now. It was Saturday and apparently Peter had done his best to let her sleep in, which meant eight thirty. The carpool would be there in half an hour.

She dragged herself out of bed. After pulling on a sweatshirt, she went to find her loud family.

In the kitchen, Etta was sitting at the table, her legs swinging back and forth. She didn't have any pants on and Olivia could see her bright green swimsuit underneath her shirt. She also had her goggles on. Peter stood in front of the stove in plaid pants and an FBI t-shirt.

"Morning," said Olivia.

The others looked up.

"Good morning," Peter said.

"Mommy's awake," said Etta.

"I am awake," Olivia said.

She slid into the chair beside Etta. She reached over and removed the goggles. "Where are your pants, baby girl?" Olivia asked.

"Daddy couldn't find them, but I found them," Etta said proudly and held them up.

Olivia did not question why Etta was still not wearing them.

"What's for breakfast?" asked Olivia.

"Bacon!"

"I hope not just bacon," said Olivia.

"And eggs. I figured she needed a hearty breakfast before her lesson," said Peter.

"Good thinking," Olivia said.

"You want anything? Etta wolfed hers down, but I can make more."

Nothing really appealed to Olivia, but she nodded.

"What's wolfed?" asked Etta. "I'm not a wolf."

"It means to eat quickly," said Olivia.

"Oh. Then, I am a wolf."

"I thought you were a fish."

Etta giggled. "That too."

Peter laughed too. He dropped two fat slices of bacon onto the pan in front of him. They started to sizzle and the kitchen filled with the smell.

Olivia sucked in a breath. Peter glanced over.

"You okay?" he asked.

She held up a finger while trying to decide. Then, she shook her head and dashed from the kitchen. She made it to the master bathroom and wretched into the toilet. Yes, the test would be positive.

She flushed. She got herself a glass of water to rinse out her mouth. She sat back on the floor beside the toilet. Etta's carpool would be here in a few minutes, and then Peter would come and find her.

A horn honked outside.

She heard the shuffling as Peter got Etta out the door, hopefully, with her pants on.

"Swim good, kiddo," said Peter.

"Bye, Daddy."

Olivia heard the footstep on the stairs. Peter poked his head into the bathroom.

"Hey, Liv, how you feeling?" he asked.

"Fine now."

"Maybe we should go to the doctor. We have a couple of hours until Etta gets back. You've been sick for a few day."

Olivia shook her head. "I know what's wrong. Or at least I'm pretty sure."

"What it is?" he said with his voice filled with concern.

"Peter, I think I'm pregnant."

If he'd been a cartoon character, his jaw would've dropped to the floor. "You are what?"

"There's a test under the sink. I bought it yesterday."

"Really?"

"I'm not sure. Get the test."

He opened the cabinet under sink and handled her the brightly colored box. She shooed him from the bathroom. She activated the strip and set it on the counter. She stepped out of the bathroom.

Peter was sitting on the bed, legs crossed and his chin resting on his fist. He still looked a bit like a cartoon character.

"What are you thinking?" she asked as she sat down next to him.

"I'm thinking this would be amazing. I'm thinking that you have said that you didn't want anymore kids."

"I know I said that, but I want the test to be positive."

"Okay, good. That's step one."

"It's not so much that I don't want more kids. The pregnancy was so hard with Etta."

"I know that. I don't like the thought of you having to go through it again."

"It's not for my sake. My body isn't safe." She had never articulated this before. Etta had been healthy and perfect. Her fears during her pregnancy had been for nothing.

"Honey, that's not true."

She just gave him a look at say 'really?'

"Don't make faces at me."

"Last time I was pregnant, Bell tried to active me. And that's just one thing that happened."

He didn't have an answer for her.

She lay back onto the bed and started up at the ceiling.

"Do you want to know why I want the test to be positive?" she asked.

"Why?"

"For Etta. I want her to have a little brother or sister. I don't want her to be alone."

"She has us. She'll never be alone."

"She might not always have us. I want Etta to have someone else." She couldn't say 'in case we die' or 'in case the Invasion does happen'.

"I like that thought too."

Olivia watched the clock. The test took a few minutes.

"We didn't have to wait last time. This is killing me," said Peter. "How are you so calm?"

"Because I know what the answer is going to be," she said.

"What if it's negative? What then?"

Olivia had to consider the question. This was not nearly as accidental as Peter thought. They used to be so careful. Since Etta was entirely unplanned, they knew they had no problem getting pregnant. Slowly, without him even noticing, she had started being less careful. Let what would happen, happen. She knew he'd wanted more kids.

'A tribe of Bishops,' he'd said until she asked him to stop.

"What if it's only one?" She has said a few days after Etta's second birthday when once again he had brought it up.

He'd stopped and gave her a hard look. He didn't answer.

"Is Henrietta enough?" she had continued. "She is enough for me. I don't want to temp fate. I think every day that we were got lucky."

The look on his face had changed. It softened. He had pulled her into a hug and said, "She's is more than enough. Our family is perfect."

He seemed to think that she'd been right after the Invasion that wouldn't be. When in reality, it had had the opposite effect on Olivia.

She felt his eyes on her. "I think we try in earnest."

A smile spread across his face. "If that's what you want."

"I'm not afraid anymore. I really want this. No reservations. No hesitation."

He kissed her.

She was smiling now too. "We can check the test now," she said. "You ready?"

"Am I ready to find out if our lives are about to change? Hell yes."

She stood up from the bed and moved back into the bathroom. He was right behind her.

She picked the plastic stripe up from the counter. She read the little window and tried to suppress a grin.

"Well? What's it say?" He was already smiling. He already knew.

She flipped the test around and read the results out loud. "Pregnant."

She knew that she was pregnant. Her body was practically yelling it. But to have it confirmed made a difference. She didn't have to sit with the thought. It was real.

Peter lifted her out her feet and spun her around as best he could in the bathroom. He whooped.

"A tribe if Bishops," he said laughing.

She was laughing too. He set her back down. Placing a hand on either side if her face, he kissed her again.

"We have to tell Etta as soon as she gets home. She's going to be so excited," he said when they broke apart.

Olivia nodded. They continued to grin at each other for a while.

"What now?" asked Peter.

"Well, I have to go to the grocery store."

He made a face. "That's not what I meant."

"I know that's not what you meant, but nothing's really changed."

"Oh yes it has."

"Okay maybe it has, but we still need groceries."

"I guess you're right. I'm coming."

"You're being silly."

"Yup, but I want to come."

"Okay, whatever you want."

He kissed her again. "I want you."

"Don't start," she said, but couldn't help smiling again. "If you're coming with me to the store, we need to be back by the time Etta gets home."

They shared one more lingering kiss. Then, she made him leave the bathroom again so she could shower without getting distracted.

Half an hour later, they entered the store. Olivia found it very hard to concentrate on getting everything on the list with him there. He kept grabbing her by the waist or kissing her shoulder while she was trying to look at the prices.

They got home just in time to meet Etta's carpool. Peter wouldn't let Olivia unload the bags from the car, so she was putting the items away inside.

She heard Etta's voice talking excitedly about something. Etta followed her dad inside, hoping back and forth from one foot to the other, excitedly talking about something. "And, and, and we did floating ponytail and I did it longest."

"Way to go, kiddo."

"I'm a fish!" said Etta and laughed at herself.

"Come here, my little fish," said Olivia. "Help me put the groceries away."

Etta bounced over after dropping her bag and wet towel on the table. She came closer to Olivia. She bent down and kissed Etta's wet hair. She smelled like chlorine.

"Hi, baby girl," said Olivia.

"Hi, Mama," answered Etta.

"Can you put the yogurt away, please?"

Etta nodded.

Peter gathered up Etta's pool stuff. He gave Olivia a look that asked when.

She smiled at him. "After lunch."

He sighed in an excited way. He could such an impatient child sometimes. Olivia kept smiling though.

When the groceries were all put away, Olivia made sandwiches for the three of them. After they had eaten, Etta started to run off to play, but Olivia stopped her.

"Let's go talk in the living room," she said.

Etta stopped and looked back at her parents as they got up from the table. Peter led the way into the living room and settle in the armchair. Olivia took the couch and motioned for Etta to sit beside her.

Etta climbed up and cuddled next to her mom.

"We have something we'd like to tell you," began Peter. "There are going to be a lot of changes around here. Before anything else happens, we want you to know that we love you so much and there isn't anything in the world that could change that. Do you understand?"

Etta looked confused, but nodded.

Olivia took over. "We are going to have another baby. You are going to have a little brother or sister. Do you understand?"

"What?" asked Etta.

"Mommy has a new baby growing in her belly," he said.

Etta held her hands up. "Well, it's about time."

Both Peter and Olivia laughed. "What does that mean?" said Peter.

"I knew—I knew I was going to have a brother. I was just waiting for you to tell me."

Olivia's didn't know what to say. She looked at Peter and then back to her daughter. "What do you mean, baby girl?"

"Sometimes in my dreams my brother is with me. I'm not scared in those dreams," said Etta as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We care of each other."

Olivia felt the hot tears in her eyes. It was what she wanted. Her family looking after each other. "I'm glad those dreams don't scare you," said Olivia and pulled her child even closer.

Peter was just staring at them. He shook his head as if to remind himself where he was. "So you're happy, kiddo? Like I said, it's going to mean a lot of changes."

Etta pulled out of her mother's arms and started jumping on the couch. "I am _so_ happy!" she yelled, saying each word as she bounced.

He laughed again. "Good. We're going to have to be on your best behavior for Mommy. We're going to have to help her out a lot."

"Of course." Etta stopped jumping as she remembered that jumping on the couch was not her best behavior.

"Thank you," said Olivia.

"Can I watch a video now?" asked Etta.

"Sure," said Peter.

They set it up for her and moved into the kitchen. Olivia poured herself a glass of water and stared back at Peter.

"She already knew. I will never understand this connection you two have. It's incredible," he said.

She shrugged. "Mother and child, I guess."

"It's so much more than that. You've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you?"

She gave him a sheepish look. "Maybe."

"And she knew. She felt it. It's why she wants you and only you when she has a nightmare. It's why she always sits so close to you. You know what I think it is?"

She could guess what he was getting at. "What?"

"Cortexiphan."

"No, Peter, I don't—"

He held up hand to interrupt her. "It's not a bad thing."

"It is." She was suddenly scared again. Why was he bringing this up? This was the thought that haunted her. She put a hand on the belly, where the new heart was only just beginning to beat. "I don't want to think about that. Etta's normal. This baby will be too. I have to believe that."

"Of course, he will. Livy, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that Etta's special because of you. You made her special. She's such a smart, brave, intuitive little girl."

She was still confused. "I don't know if I had anything to do with it. But why are you telling me this?"

"Because I'm excited, Liv. I'm really excited," he said and moved closer to her. He put a hand over hers. "I'm excited to meet this new little baby. I'm excited to see Etta be a big sister. I'm excited for our family to grow."

"Me too."

She had everything she wanted. The kind of life that had seemed as likely as a fairy tale. A happy family was a vague concept from when she was a very small child. It was something from the movies. It had never seemed attainable. Now, she had it. There was no excitement. No desire to jump for joy. There was a calm, a feeling of settling into place, or a release of weight from her shoulders.

She kissed him again, but gently.

"I can't imagine my life without you," he said.

"I was always able to and that scared me."

"And now?"

"I don't know where I'd be."

"I love you, Agent Dunham," he said.

"I love you too."

* * *

I will let you imagine the rest of their happy ending...

Thanks so much for reading and commenting. It means a lot.


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